The Marriage Bed
by nurseholliday
Summary: Regency Au: When Niklaus Mikaelson, the Earl of Mulholland's cousin dies he knows that he will have to reconcile with his estranged wife in order to produce and heir. The only problem is, Lady Caroline Forbes isn't what he remembered at all, and she wants no part in her husbands games.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Reposting my drabble The Marriage Bed with the extension. Hope you like it.**

Lord Klaus Mikaelson, the Earl of Mulholland was not the sort of man who enjoyed waiting. His entire existence since he burst from the womb had been a never ending rush; he had taken his first steps before his eighth month, spoken his first word shortly after, and sat atop his first mount well before his third birthday. Every pursuit he had dawdled with or challenge that presented itself upon him he executed with the effortless ease of a man who had been completing such measly tasks his entire life. Indeed, there was very little in this world that Klaus could not accomplish if he merely set his mind to it. He had grown to four and thirty accustomed to getting exactly what he wanted when he wanted it. So to be sitting surrounded by the pastel decadence of his mother's sitting room waiting for her to emerge from her afternoon lie-down was almost more than he could bear.

His fingers tapped restlessly against the thick glass of his brandy as he gazed at the rain pounding against the worn cobbled street. The weather had been increasingly dreadful over the past fortnight, with nary a ray of sunshine to be had since the start of the Little Season. He could imagine the many garden parties or intimate picnics that would most lamentably be canceled. Most likely the debutantes and matchmaking mothers were overwrought with anxiety over when they would be able to ensnare some foolish bloke who had the unhappy luck to bear a title. Klaus had spent hours observing the pitiful lengths that some ladies had sunk too in the pursuit of a husband. Arranging clandestine meetings in order to be discovered and compromised, playing one gentleman against the other, dangling themselves in front of their prey and then fleeing before being caught. As entertaining as these women's misplaced desperations were, he had to admit that not being a potential target for their Machiavellian attentions was no hardship. Despite the obligatory demands of his station, he would be inclined to argue that his life was nigh perfect in its entirety. Except of course, the fact that he was still sitting directly where he had been for the last quarter hour.

The amber liquid of his late father's port captured his attention as it glinted at him from his tumbler. Hoping that it would somehow end this interminable wait he downed the remainder of the contents in one generous swallow. His eyes flitted through the still empty sitting room and disappointment filled him as he espied no discernible change. A heavy sigh issued forth from his lungs as he heaved himself off of the elegant settee and sauntered towards the sideboard that held his families crystal decanters. If it had been any other person in the world that had summoned him only to subject him to this endless wait, he would have most definitely left shortly after arriving. Seeing however that it was his mother, who he had never quite seen eye to eye with, he supposed that he would just have to endure until she presented herself.

At his new position next to the thick paneled window he took to surveying the madness outside. The streets were almost completely deserted, the conditions driving most of the elite indoors like ancient recluses. Two unfortunate peddlers seemed to be braving the elements and he watched as they pushed a small cart passed the window towards Fleet Street. The two would never make it if the rain persisted; they would be half frozen by the time they arrived and would most likely spend the following days nursing some sort of ailment. Fools, he thought grimly to himself as he brought the cool glass to his lips.

"It's a little early for spirits don't you think Niklaus?" The familiar icy lilt of his mother's voice invaded the stagnant silence that had plagued him since he had arrived. He turned slowly to the room's entrance where the stiff-lipped figure of his mother had emerged, her frail shoulders wrapped tightly with the heavy fabric of a woolen shawl. They made eye contact for a few seconds before she gracefully glided towards the high backed chair next to the fireplace. "I suppose then it would be unnecessary for me to call for tea." Her words came out pleasant enough, though the underline meaning bit at him as they always did. It is said that a wise man hears one word and can understand two; his mother had the unique ability to say one thing when she actually meant you should take the quickest route to the devil. It may not make his mother particularly wise, but it did make her a more than formidable adversary.

Setting the glass silently on the sideboard he moved back to the settee, facing himself directly at his mother and hoping that they could get this god forsaken meeting to a start. Since it seemed she was content in sitting in silence he took the initiative and spoke first. "It's been a long time Mother. You are looking well, are you in health?"

"Don't jest with me boy you have no concern for my health. In any matter, that is not my purpose for calling you here today." It was no great shock to him that the Countess was not inquiring on him simply for pleasantries. His mother had only called upon him twice within the last four years and both of which were pertaining to business. The first had been the passing of his father, which had struck Klaus severely at the time because he was not even made aware of the Late Earl's declining health. Unlike his relationship with his mother, Klaus had genuinely cared for his father. The thick brogue of his voice would fill the room with unsuppressed merriment and his booming laughter could be heard from three estates away. His father was a Scot and proud of it, so how he managed to marry someone as cold and hardhearted as his absurdly English mother was beyond the borders of his comprehension. The second time he had been summoned was shortly after his father's death. The specifics of which were his mother's high opinion on his behavior, and the responsibilities that he now owed to his title. After a long condemning speech in which his mother detailed exactly how he should present himself as an Earl he ventured forth to make one of the greatest mistakes of his life.

"What exactly is it that you require from me mother?" His voiced contained the edge of his annoyance and her eyes lowered a fraction and her lips thinned down to an almost invisible seam.

"How does your wife fair Niklaus?" At the announcement of his life's folly he shifted slightly in his chair, not caring if it broadcasted his uneasiness to the woman sitting across from him. His mother was perfectly aware that Nick had not seen nor spoken to Caroline Mikaelson, the Countess of Muholland in going on three years. For her to bring her up at a meeting such as this one could only bring certain disaster for the future.

"You would be more familiar with my wife's movements then I seeing as I do not partake in sitting room prattle or bother listening to ridiculous gossip mongers. She could have set sail for America for all I know." Sensing what the course this conversation was taking a turn towards, he stood once more grabbing his tumbler from the side board. He chose to remain standing the impending news he was sure he was about to hear was something he did not feel like taking sitting down.

"I'll have you know she has not set off to America. In fact, she still resides in her father's townhouse something I'm sure you are aware. I may be mistaken in assuming that you still provide her compensation?" Klaus chose not to answer this time, knowing that his bluff had been called and that though he knew his wife's whereabouts, he had no idea what activities she frequented, what parties she enjoyed, or how she passed her time from day to day. Many members of the Haute Ton, his mother included, frowned upon the arrangement made between him and his wife. To him however the circumstances could not be more ideal, he kept the hours he desired, dallied with whatever young actress that caught his fancy, and conducted himself in a manner that he saw fit. In turn he allowed her to do the same and they were permitted certain freedoms since they still held the title of husband and wife. He did not have the herd of matchmaking momma's and green as grass debutantes after him. She at least, he assumed could direct herself without the burden of a chaperone.

"As it was your insistence that I marry, I don't see why the way I conduct my marriage is any of your concern." He countered coldly shouldering off his mother's insult and titling his chin upwards in defiance. At her assertion he had married the first girl who had seemed besotted with him, wed her, bed her, and then promptly deposited her in the country at his estate where she could live out the remainder of her days. It was almost a year later that he had discovered that she was now a resident of London and other then sending his checks to a different location, he had not run into her in polite society. Not that he was particularly keen too, from what he remembered of Caroline she was a green girl, not yet one and twenty when they wed, and altogether plain. Her hair, though plentiful, held the hue of brassy wheat, her face had no particularly remarkable features and she weighed a stone or two more than to his liking. He made it clear to all involved in the mockery that was his wedding that he was marrying for title solely, and he acted as in accordance to his feelings. At the sound of his mother's voice he shifted his attention back to the situation at hand.

"Your Cousin Elijah is dead." The words poured from his mother's mouth unfeelingly, much like when she had announced the news of her own husband's death. As if not only a member of their family had just passed, but a good man was taken from this earth. The news hit Klaus hard. Elijah, though having no noble blood of his own was next in line for the Earldom. Klaus's father was never one to discriminate against a person's wealth or status, he chose much to the chagrin of the ton to base his opinions on a person by their actions alone. He would never have turned Elijah away due to lack of nobility, and Nik could remember summer's full of adventures that the two boys shared. "Apparently he contracted scarlet fever while he was abroad. This tragedy brings new issues to the fore front of our families concerns…"

"Mother, the man is dead can you at least show the slightest bit of decorum and feign some sympathy?" Her eyes shot daggers at him while she readjusted her shawl and continued.

"… Elijah as we all know was to inherit the title once you inevitably pass away. However now that he himself has passed leaving behind no heir let alone any children of any kind it puts us in an awful position. There seems only one course of action and that is that you simply must put aside your differences with your wife and honor the vows of your union,"

The silence that hung in the air after the last of his mother's resonant tones slowly faded away made Klaus wish that he could hear nothing at all. The prospect of reuniting with his wife that he only met a handful of times in hopes of producing an heir was preposterous, so much so that Klaus, giving a curt bow headed promptly for the door. Once inside the entrance hall he was surprised to find his mother had stayed firmly at his heels. "Niklaus you must see reason, if you do not provide an heir the family name will be lost!"  
Klaus spun on his heel looking down at her small frame, the fury rising in him at her cool demeanor. "Well then the name shall simply be lost then, give it to some other unfortunate soul who may revel in having it."

"You are the last of the Mikaelson line, without an heir the Earl of Muholland shall simply cease to exist. Think of your father!"

His fingers shook at the mention of his poor lost father. Though he knew his mother's manipulation to know no bounds he was astounded that after all this time her callousness could still surprise him. "Do not speak of father. This has nothing to do with him."

"Of course it does. After all this time, would you really be willing to let your father's Legacy end with you. To let the Mikaelson name conclude because of your own selfishness." The accusing tone in her voice hit him just as hard as the almost vulnerable look that had settled itself upon her face. Though his mother's intentions benefited mostly herself and the vanity of her station, he knew that ultimately she was right. This acknowledgement only served to make him even more cross, the enormous lion that was his pride screaming out his rebellion. With one last look at his mother he accepted his coat and hat from his footman and stalked out the door into the unforgiving rain. If only he had a brother, he mused as he climbed into his carriage and instructed his man to take him to his club, then perhaps the overwhelming burden of his station would be manageable. Perhaps then he would not loathe it so.

Convincing himself that he would not make a concrete decision until the morrow concerning the matter with his wife, he willed himself to relax. The constant drum beat upon the roof of his carriage a melodic lull that he was thankful calmed his shaken nerves. His first course of action was to join in at the card tables and get himself thoroughly foxed. It may not be the most cultivated of plans, but at least it would keep his mind clear of the happenings of the day

* * *

"Please Elena I can hardly call Lady Fell's garden party diverting. I almost found myself bored to tears on several occasions. If it were not for the discussion of the new art museum and the arrival of the curator I would have been slumbering in my seat." Lady Caroline Mikaelson said from behind her embroidery. Her dearest friend, Miss Elena Gilbert had given up her needle, choosing instead to read aloud the gossip pages. How many nights had passed just in this manner Caroline did not particularly know, but the peace and solitude that accompanied being in the presence of someone as polite and soft spoken as Elena was something that she would not trade for the most entertaining of garden parties.

"Oh Caroline you only say that because of your interest in the arts. The party was most diverting. Indeed I believe that I have not enjoyed myself so much in quite some time." Caroline smiled at her friend's statement, though Elena was altogether and advocate for any party her friends more manly pursuits shocked and astounded people. Elena who loved dancing, gossip and sweets, also enjoyed horseback riding, Latin which although being a man's language she excelled in and shooting her pistol. It was cause for her to be the subject of much talk and speculation upon the ladies of the ton, though Elena persevered through it without batting a single eyelash. Something Caroline always seemed to admire about her oldest friend, no manner of talk could possibly sway her purpose or the way she handled her affairs to alter. She herself had no notable title she would be quite the catch for any man. Her ebony hair shined like the silkiest velvet in the rays of the sun, her silken eyelashes were impossibly long fringing her chocolate irises. Elena was easily one of the handsomest women amongst the ton; any man lucky enough to make her an offer would be gaining not only her external features, but the delightful character within.  
In truth ever since they were in the nursery together Caroline had been secretly jealous of her friend's purely exotic beauty. It had been cause of much guilt over the years; despite her friend's first water looks, Elena had never done a single thing to garner Caroline's spite. Caroline had never been considered handsome, even her own father considered her positively plain. With singularly uninspiring hair, and an uninspiring form she had never been known to turn a gentleman's' head. Next to Elena, who would possibly desire plain old Caroline?

It wasn't until after her wedding those things had started to change; slowly the extra stone she carried disappeared. Her hair, though still uninspiring didn't seem such a burdensome handful anymore and became capable for her lady's maid to tame. Her eyes being the only feature she had ever truly coveted seemed to become larger, more vivid. Many people had marveled at the Countesses transformation deeming it to be akin to a miracle. Others referred to her as a late bloomer and with the addition of her elevated rank it was only natural she began to portray herself according to her station. Whether or not either parties were right, she felt no different than she had before. As far as she was concerned she was still just Caroline. Plain old Caroline.

"It is not simply that, I do not desire frivolous entertainment. They simply do not adhere with my tastes. I attend simply to keep my good name and that is all." Except for the soft rustling of pages, Elena chose to stay silent after that and Caroline sighed at the newly acquired stillness. Turning towards her embroidery she tried her best to carefully place each stitch, yet in her heart and in her head she could not settle the unease that constantly filled her. The unease that had plagued her since her wedding day three years past.

"Heavens! Is that really the time? It seems that I have overstayed in my visit, I had best be on my way home, I have an early carriage ride with Lord Donovan." Elena smiled as she stood and gave a brief curtsy to Caroline, Caroline in turn did the same. She bid her friend a warm adieu and watched as she gathered her things and headed for the door.

How many nights had she spent exactly this way, how many times had she bid her last visitor goodbye only to make the trek upstairs alone? Three years felt like a lifetime to her, three years of smiling at dinner parties and enduring questions about her husband's health when she had no idea how his health fared. She knew that every month she received her stipend, her monthly allowance that she hardly ever used. Her husband, who she had been and was still so desperately in love with that she could hardly hold herself upright.

They had met like many others had, at a ball. She remembered the exact words he used when he first asked her to dance, she could still tell the exact number of times that his hand met hers during that night, and still recalled every word that he spoke to her. In her youth, in her foolishness, she had thought that he had really loved her. Yet upon his proposal there was no ardent declaration of love, no expression of any sort of feeling whatsoever, simply the words "Will you be my bride". She had said yes the buffoon that she was and now here she suffered with the same unending cycle. Waking up at the early hours alone, dining alone, and except for the occasional droll party she spent her every waking hour alone.

Niklaus had never been one for romantics that much she knew, but having to face the realization that he was completely heartless almost broke her entirely. Being not one and twenty when she was wed she believed the fairy tales of marriage; Of falling madly in love with her prince charming and spending her forever after being faithful and obedient to him. Not one of those story books described being cast off in a country estate by a man that she was hopelessly in love with only to hear that he would never return. Not one of them spoke of the loneliness that it was to spend every waking moment with only herself for companionship. If there was such a book she had never found it, and she had spent quite a great deal looking. She recognized herself for the fool she way now. How she could honestly believe that a man of his age could look on the girl she had been and found himself so in love to propose marriage. It was simple business to him. To find the most gullible girl he could find, marry her and then set her aside; like she was nothing more than some possession to adorn his shelf.

She had spent almost a full year believing that he would see the error of his ways and come back to her, a full year before she made up her mind and headed to London. At first her move to London was strictly because of him, she believed that upon knowing that his wife resided so closely to himself that he would only naturally have to call upon her. But as a month turned into season and season turned into a year she realized that he was never coming. Not for her any way. He probably was too busy with never ending slew of trollops he associated with. For the first year she had obsessively searched for his name among the papers for any news, any snippet of information on his activities. The stories were always the same. The Earl of Mulholland seen with this actress or that opera singer. They had broken her heart every time, but for some reason she couldn't stop herself from searching, from reading, from re-opening the wound. It wasn't until a year and a half that she had given up; given up on any chance that she had a future with her husband other than their current arrangement.

Instructing Bonnie to clean up the parlor and extinguish the lights she slowly made her way up to her bed chamber. Although it was cold and unforgiving she did not have the multiple eyes of society on her when she was with her own thoughts. Even though more times then she cared to admit her thoughts strayed to Niklaus.

There was no reason why she should still think of him as she did. Maybe it was the fruitlessness of first love that always brought her back to him. She had convinced herself that she did not stay in London because of him, but she never made the initiative to leave either. Caroline was hard-pressed to accept that she was just a married woman with no future ahead of her. She had been labeled as such by the ton yet she never could fully understand the ramifications of what that meant. That was until the rumors started. It was in every sitting room, on the pages of the gossip rags, even on occasion while she was in earshot. Lady Mikaelson who was estranged from her husband never failed to have male company in her bed. Lady Mikaelson who seemed polite and gracious in public really was nothing but a painted harlot behind closed doors. The rumors had started around a year ago after her blossoming friendship with a composer who had just commissioned his first opera. The falsities grew from there to the point where every man that was in her company was either a lover or a former lover who wanted to reinstate his claim upon her. No one would believe that Caroline Mikaelson had never taken a lover, or that the only man she had ever been intimate with was her husband.

Her reputation had however brought some new possibilities to forefront of her mind. Many people envied the freedom that she had. In reality she did not commit the offenses that were attached to her name but she was envied for having the option to commit them. It made her think, especially with the overwhelming seclusion if taking a lover would be so entirely horrible. With her improved looks and her reputation it would not be altogether unheard of for her to finally take a lover. In fact it might even douse the never ending torch that she still carried for her husband who had never been a husband to her at all.

"My lady would you like help from your stays?" Bonnie said quietly as she entered her bedchamber. Caroline nodded to her as the girl quickly moved to help her from the garment. Her mind lingered on her current predicament. She tried to conjure up the face of her husband, but found that other than knowing him to be incredibly handsome; she could not remember the very shape of his lips or the exact color of his eyes. Perhaps that was the sign that she was indeed ready to move on, perhaps that was the way she could know that he had finally left her. She used this as a sign to finally make her decision. She would take a lover. The only question was who?

* * *

The morning was crisp and warm which was startling because the rain had yet to cease. The warmth caused the rain to steam off of the earth in a misty haze that looked as if it could intoxicate some wayward traveler. Caroline spent her mornings as she always did, with a tray brought to her quarters and the newest novel that she purchased on Bond Street. This book though being considered frightful to the sensibilities of many untried young ladies intrigued Caroline. The tales of far off adventures, maidens from the harems of a rich sultan and the culture there made her wish for such a life. Wish for a new place where she could start completely over; fall in love with a man who could truly love her back, a place that could quell the cavernous hole residing in her heart. Bonnie slipped into the room noiselessly removing her tray and placing a small stack of correspondence in its place. Setting the book to the side she grabbed the usual lists of invitations and bills and began to sort through them mindlessly.

Apparently the Duchess of Chillingsworth was having another ball, obviously in an attempt to find her son a suitable wife. As Elena's chaperone she would clearly be amongst the invited, having paved her friend's way into polite society. The new Duke, though amiable enough was known to be a humorless dunce. Marriage between the two would be quite a coup for any young lady she could not imagine Elena consenting to marriage with someone who would most likely bore her to tears. She penned small acceptance letters to the ball and the opening of the museum's new wing and then declined the rest under the pretense of being otherwise engaged. After dealing with the rest of the correspondence she lightly perused her bills from the dress maker and the jeweler. Smaller than most titled married women of the ton, she sighed at the dress maker's receipt. The gown she had commissioned for tonight's costume ball had cost a great deal more then she had originally anticipated. But the thick red velvet and heavy gold cord that encompassed her Queen's costume made her look as regal and exotic as some foreign princess.

Tonight she would go about looking among the men of the ton to find a prospective lover. Her mind wandered to whoever the man might be, her only hope was that the sorrow that followed her around day after day would dissolve into bliss. That she might find someone who loved her, and who she could love in return. It was strange to her that she yearned so desperately to be loved. But her husband's treatment had left an ache inside that never left. She felt it every morning when she would wake up alone, and every night when she laid down under her thick coverlet and stared off into the increasing darkness. It was like a rain cloud that hung over her head everywhere she ventured. The burden that she had worn since the Earl's carriage has pulled away from his estate on their honeymoon. The day he had stolen her heart and thrown her to the side as easily as if he were removing his cravat.

A delicate sigh escaped her lips as she set the rest of her bills aside to handle after breaking her fast. Her eyes caressed the stark white note sitting alone on the surface of the tray. Confusion itched at her. Peculiar, why hadn't she seen it before? She lightly picked up the missive and turned it over in her hands. Her heart stopped as the familiar seal glinted up at her. Nik. The breath surged from her lungs as her shaking hands slowly broke the seal and unfolded the gleaming white pages.

 _Lady Mikaelson,_

 _There is a matter of the utmost importance that I must discuss with you. I will call on you at half seven tonight._

 _Yours,_

 _Niklaus Mikaelson, Earl of Mulholland._

A wry smile settled on her lips. Three years of marriage and he couldn't even address her by her given name. She tossed the note bitterly aside. Whatever pressing business that he needed settled would have to wait, there was no way she was calling off her engagement tonight for some fair-weather spouse. Not only for Elena's sake, but for her intentions this evening as well. No husband, no matter how handsome he may be, could make her do that.


	2. Chapter 2

The Marriage Bed. Part deux.

 **A/N: Hey everybody! Here is the part two to my story The marriage bed. I'm not certain if I'll be continuing it or not. It depends on the response and if people enjoy it. Please let me know what you think.**

"Sir would you like me to set out your riding attire?" Jeremy, his footman asked him as he slowly picked at his breakfast. His stomach churned as he nibbled his food, the after effects of a night of imbibing making his head throb terribly.

Jeremy, though young in years eyed him with the knowing gaze of a man twice his age. He made a dismissive shake of his hand clearly saying no as he continued to suffer through the food in front of him. Jeremy then proceeded to make as much noise as feasibly possible and Klaus almost groaned in agony. He should dismiss him for his insolence, he wouldn't the man was invaluable. However the thought was certainly appealing.

"Jeremy?" He said loudly causing the noise to cease as the man approached.

"Yes My Lord?"

"Was the missive delivered this morning?" His thoughts strayed back to his current predicament and how much he was dreading the impending evening. He had no wish to see his wife, let alone bed her. But he knew that there was no other choice, he could never let his father's name die and ignoring his mother's advice would be doing just that. He would not admit that his mother was right, but he had a duty. A duty that he had always known he must fulfill; a duty to a title that he had been born into and never really wanted.

"Yes sir. I hand delivered it myself earlier this morning." Jeremy moved the plate out from in front of him. Klaus gave a hearty sigh of relief as the plate moved out of his line of sight. He did not think that he would be able to finish his food this morning. Blood sausage was usually his favorite choice on days such as these. Yet with the violent roiling of his stomach it was unlikely he'd be able to keep the contents of him meal down if he continued.

He went out the night before with every intention of forgetting his present dilemma. As one drink turned into a dozen his hostility towards his mother and his wife slowly dissipated replaced by the provocative smile and flirtatious manner of a rather buxom blonde prostitute. It took him little persuasion to accompany the woman upstairs and after he had tupped her to his satisfaction he pulled on his clothes and called his carriage to take him home.

As the slow rhythmic rocking lulled him into a drunken slumber the thought that he wouldn't be able to enjoy himself with similar activities until he made amends with his wife struck him. He dreaded it; he dreaded the very idea of having to spend any prolonged time with the woman he had wed. From what he remembered of her she had been a passive creature, utterly simple, peevishly innocent, and desperately in love with him. Save for a pair of blue eyes the color of the bluest of skies there was not a single characteristic that made her memorable. Indeed he could barely picture her countenance in his mind. Klaus pitied her honestly; she would probably throw herself at him the moment he walked across the threshold to her townhouse. It would be easiest if he simply came out and proposed the arrangement to her. Yes, that would be best. He would simply inform the lady that it was time for her to do her duty as the Countess of Mulholland and produce an heir. Even if he had not spoken to his wife in sometime, she was born a lady. The daughter of a Viscount and was raised knowing that someday her husband would require her to produce children. She was a sensible girl from what he recalled; certainly she would understand the urgency of the situation.

This morning despite the pounding headache he had scrawled out a request on a sheet of parchment and gave it to Jeremy to be delivered. Now, all he had to do was wait till half seven in order to get this monstrosity of a conversation over and done with. Hopefully by then he would be able to feel more like himself and less like he had been trampled by several sets of horse hooves followed by a livery cart.

A glass materialized before him and he confusedly met the eyes of his footman. "My father's famous hangover remedy. Works wonders." He narrowed his gaze at the thick brown concoction residing in his expensive crystal stemware. It looked completely inedible.

"What in the bloody hell did you put in that?"

Jeremy gave him a skeptical look as his eyes shifted from the glass to his master. "It would be better if you didn't know the particulars." Klaus was sure he was going to regret this, but with more conviction then he felt he grasped the glass and quickly drank the contents. It took only a few seconds to realize that he had made a horrible error. He sputtered as his stomach heaved dangerously. Niklaus grabbed the edge of the table in order to keep himself upright and hopefully stop himself from casting up the contents of his measly breakfast. He threw nasty glare at the younger man who at least had the audacity to look sheepish. "It tastes awful my lord, but it'll put you to rights in a tick."

His scowl deepened as Jeremy took the now empty glass towards the sidebar. He watched the man's retreating back with renewed malevolence. If he wasn't so good at his job he would be on stable duty. Cleaning stalls. That should straighten out his impertinence.

* * *

He arrived at Lady Mikaelson's townhouse precisely at half seven. He had always prided himself on his punctuality and he made no exception today. He tied his ability to be on time to his word as a gentleman and believed lateness was simply laziness. He despised tardiness, to the point where he would refuse to engage in a business arrangement with someone who couldn't make the effort to arrive on time. It was disrespectful to say the least, and the Earl of Mulholland was anything if not respectful.

After a few words with his wife's butler who looked positively puzzled he positioned himself on a remarkably comfortable chair in the main sitting room. He refused tea, instead instructing the ancient door man to bring him a glass of port if there was any about. A curt bow was the man's only response, he hobbled toward the door and it was a miracle that he was able to make it past the frame without collapsing. He'd have to speak with the Lady about the efficiency of her staff. She was a Countess, the Countess of Mulholland to be exact. Her servants should be up to par with the demands of their station. Whatever the man's recommendation it was clear he was no longer fit for service.

It took the man five minutes to return with the requested port. Niklaus refused the offer of a tea tray being rung for preferring not to waste time over unnecessary pleasantries and to conclude this conversation as quickly as possible. It took him ten minutes at most for him to finish his port and at that point he had become thouroughly agitated. Twice in two days he had been made to wait for the appearance of a woman and he would make damn sure he'd tell his wife that he did not like waiting in the future. He did not have to fancy waiting a millennia for his wife should their "assignations" take a longer time than anticipated. She was probably upstairs fretting over her appearance for the hundredth time. Hoping that when she finally entered her appearance would leave him speechless. Wasn't that why women internationally kept men waiting? Under the misapprehension that it made them more appealing?  
A dozen minutes passed, then another.

By the time he had thrown himself to his feet and stormed out of the sitting room he was beyond irritated.

He came face to face with a displeased, albeit pretty maid.

"What is taking the Countess so long."

"She isn't here." The defiant look in the maid's eyes further heightened his agitation. Of all of the nerve…

"What do you mean she isn't here? Where is she?"

"Exactly as I spoke. I am not in your employ sir. My loyalties lie with Lady Forbes and no one else."

Fury rose within him. Dismissed she was dismissed the moment he got his hands upon his infuriating wife. "Well perfect then, because as you well know Lady Forbes has had the surname of Lady Mikaelson, Countess, for some time. I'd advise you to either tell me where she is or to pack your belongings and leave."

The maid gave a disbelieving laugh which made him seethe with anger. "I have little regard for the things you say. Her ladyship happens to be at a masquerade, see if you can figure out the particulars." And with that the audacious maid turned promptly on her heel and left him where he stood.

* * *

He decided that it would be simple enough to find his wife in a crowd such as this. The occupants of the beau monde were dressed lavishly scattered throughout the ballroom. Even with the mandatory mask adorning his peer's faces he could easily make out the people hiding behind them. Klaus elected his best course of action was to observe the crowd form the sidelines since he had to pay a footman a small fortune to make it through the doors. He had no intention of getting tossed out before he had completed what he had come to do.  
Instead of blatantly outing the only occupant without a costume the public ignored him. Too preoccupied with the certainty of their own importance and the crush around them. Klaus simply blended into the background his eyes caressing the form of one lady then another. After a good quarter hour and surveying every woman in the room Klaus could say that his wife was most certainly not here. The moment he returned to her Town House, her going to be more than simply dismissed, gaoel, would serve her right. Or at the very least a good piece of his mind.

The scowl that darkened his features couldn't have possibly shown how utterly frustrated he was. So much time wasted running all over town in search of one woman. He'd have to visit her early in the morning to punish her for not waiting for him as his note specifically requested. He weaved soundlessly through the crowd towards the open terrace with all intention of slipping through the gardens and being done with this disaster of an evening. Fate it seemed had other plans, or more specifically Gerald Sutton, the Viscount of Kensington.  
"Mikaelson old man!" Thought that was you, didn't know you were going to be here tonight?" Alaric, a tall lanky man clapped his massive hand onto Klaus's shoulder.

"Neither did I." He replied satisfied at least that his answer was entirely truthful.  
Saltzman took no notice to his young companions answer.

"Lost your mask early did you? Very rebellious in this crowd, still a few moments left before they give the signal."

Klaus forced a tight smile. "Unfortunately I came solely to collect my wife. I'm departing now seeing as she isn't in attendance."

Saltzman regarded him peculiarly at his words. It wasn't till he guffawed several times and landed another hearty slap, this one directly on Klaus's back.

"If I didn't know better I'd say your sight was impaired. Your wife happens to be right there." He followed the man's long finger directly across the room to a couple standing a fraction too close to be appropriate on the opposite side of the dance floor. His first reaction was disbelief, more questioning the Viscount's sanity then believing his proclamations. His gaze licked over the slim figure, elegant posture, and the low cut of the gown which showed off the woman's generous breasts. When he reached her face he focused on each feature singularly; the long seam of her throat, the pearls adorning each dainty ear, her lush mouth painted painfully red. A mouth that could insight a man to the wildest of fantasies. As a whole the woman across from him was achingly beautiful dressed as a red Queen. A goddess that any man with blood flowing through his veins would welcome into his bed. Klaus felt the telltale tightening of arousal deep within him. All reasons why the Viscount Saltzman must be mistaken.  
It wasn't until a very familiar set of blue eyes clashed with his and those beautiful lips parted in shock did he know.

The Red Queen was his wife.

* * *

He came. I simply cannot believe that he came! Caroline wasn't sure what to think as she locked eyes with her husbands. Other than the initial flip flopping of her stomach and light headedness she realized that is she had thought the man she tried to remember earlier in the week was handsome the man talking to the notoriously ham fisted Viscount Saltzman was pure sin. His eyes flicked over her; once, twice. The ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as he said goodbye to Lord Saltzman and slowly began to make his way towards her. The only thing she knew was she had to get out of here immediately.

"Lord Lockwood, I'm getting frightfully overheated would you care to take a turn about the gardens." A knowing, mischievous look glinted in his eyes as he offered her his arm and gallantly aimed them towards the terrace doors. There was only one problem with this arrangement; it was the same direction that Niklaus was coming. Lord Lockwood though decidedly young and all together sure of himself was most pleasant company. From the moment he claimed the first waltz he had made his intention and knowledge of her situation clear. Learning to long ago ignore the rumors and assumptions made about her she had simply smiled and commented on the intricacy of his cravat. After the hours of flattery, of flirting and of the lavish compliments he paid to her attire, humor, and person' she had begun to feel them herself. That possibly a relationship with a man such as he would make her happy.

That was until something had caused her to look over and see Nik staring right back. How long had he been there? What must he think? She shook herself then. He could think whatever he should like too. It was no concern of hers.  
"Oh, the signal for us to de-mask was just raised. It should be just a moment, shall we wait?" Dread welled up inside of her as she nodded in acquiesce.

There was no hope for escape now. The crowd cheered as the Host and Hostess counted down. She felt none of the earlier glee as she lightly fumbled with the knots of her domino's ties. When it fell into her hands and she offered her beaming companion a small smile she knew that she had been caught. A look to her right confirmed that he had arrived, his unhurried, unconcerned gait rubbing her already frazzled nerves raw. Her mouth had long since gone dry and if she though him sin from afar, then standing mere feet away from her he was the devil himself.

"Mulholland." Lord Lockwood's words sounded hollow to her ears and the two men acknowledged each other with a slight inclination of the head.  
"Lockwood." The tension was nearly palpable as the two gentlemen stared at each other. Caroline thought she might break the silence somehow but before she had a chance to say a single word Niklaus continued, "Pardon my intrusion but I came to collect my wife. We have a prior engagement we must be getting to." The younger of the two's eyebrows rose in surprise, his warm brown eyes shifted to hers in question but it was all she could do to keep the placid smile on her face.

"Prior engagement you say? But's it's nearly midnight. Wherever is still receiving guests at such an hour?" The question was a perfectly innocent one; her companion had obviously sensed the mounting tension and attempted to use candid humor to diffuse it. Nik either did not register the man's attempts or did not care.

"Home." He bit back in a curt reply. Lord Lockwood's eyebrows rose again. Her husband may have said "home" in the most forced amiable fashion but his real meaning was clear. He may as well as shouted 'bed' and gotten it over with. Caroline felt hot anger boil itself inside of her. How dare him.

Nik didn't wait for the man's reply; instead he grasped her tightly by the wrist and led her towards the entrance hall. She couldn't find it in herself to protest, so hit by shock and hurt and anger and hope. Hope, it was hard to suppress the bubbling feeling as he barked for his coach to come around and they waited in awkward silence.

He's come for me. Finally.

Her mind momentarily flitted to Elena and she was grateful that Lord Donovan's family had escorted her this evening. She did not want to think of what his reaction would be if she had to explain to them that she couldn't possibly leave.  
The sleek black coach emblazoned with the Earl's crest crunched forward and stopped dutifully before them. It was like a dream, she didn't even flinch as he assisted her inside and she settled herself in a seat she had not occupied since her wedding day. Caroline barely noticed that he had taken the seat opposite her and the carriage rocked lightly as the gravel changed to the cobbled streets. Finally as if sensing her current state his voice broke through the haze.  
"Do you have any idea how long it took to track you down tonight? How much time I wasted to have a simple conversation? The next time I inform you of my intention to call you will remain at home!"

If she believed she had been angry before it was nothing like the rage flaming through her now. It did not matter how handsome he was or that she still loved him deeply, she had the overpowering urge to lean forwards and box his ears. "Lord Mikaelson, I had an engagement tonight I had long ago accepted. It would have been improper to snub Lady Sommers at the last minute. Had you written and requested a suitable time to call I would have replied accordingly."

Her voice belayed a calm she in no way felt. Especially when he lent forward, his elbows coming to rest on his knees and a cold fury licking behind his eyes. "I think considering the circumstances, you can stand to call me Niklaus." Her eyes grew to the size of tea saucers but inwardly she held her ground. "Whether or not you had the engagement this evening a simple reply informing me of your intentions would have sufficed in letting me know not to call on you. Instead I was left waiting in your parlor for a good hour before your maid deemed it necessary to inform me you were out."

She fought the smile that begged to break onto her lips. She'd have to give Bonnie a gift for facing the wolf that was her husband. Perhaps a new bonnet…

"Seeing as the likelihood that you would arrive was small I didn't believe that my waiting for you was necessary. Even then, anyone in polite society would make sure to receive a letter of acknowledgement before forcing themselves into someone's home." Where had this shrewd woman come from? Never before had she spoke her mind so freely and with little want to restrain herself. Even if the man was her husband who intimidated her beyond belief she felt the power welling up inside of her as his face darkened and he leaned forward even more.

"It isn't just someone's home, it is my home. It became my property upon our marriage. And you aren't just anyone, you are my wife!"

The words slipped out of her mouth before she could find the presence of mind to contain them. "It's a fine time for you to remember that detail."


	3. Chapter 3

The Marriage Bed Part TRES

 **A/N: Hey there dearests! This is for Klarolinstan who is absolutely lovely and asked for the third part to this story. Here you are darling. I hope you like it!**

His eyes narrowed as the words dripped clumsily from her lips and hung stagnantly between them. He surveyed her, his gaze flitting over her face, making precise appraisal of her inside of his unfathomable mind. Her fingers curled into the gossamer skirts of her dress, knotting nervously as she held her chin elevated defiantly. He let his eyes fall down to the deep square of her neckline a notable flicker of admiration igniting in his irises. Heat rose upon her cheeks, both anger and embarrassment coursing through her. She knotted her fingers tighter into her skirts resisting the urge to yank the fabric up to cover her exposed flesh.

Caroline's spine straightened as her own mind began to race.. Not once over the last three years if someone were to approach her and intimate that the night her husband finally appeared that she would feel such conflicting emotions. One reason being the likelihood that her husband would ever deign to call upon her, let alone track her to a masquerade ball without the knowledge of her location was infinitesimal. All of it collided within her, his proximity, the pulsing beat inside of her that wailed her emotions towards him, the irritation at his audacity.

"I assure you, I haven't forgotten."

"Your behavior suggests otherwise." A pregnant pause rose between them.

'I don't remember you being so foolish." He growled, a clear emblem that her words had pierced his cool and calm exterior. Pride rose within her at the thought of finally needling her way under his thick unaffected skin, even for only a moment.

"I'd find it remarkable if you could enumerate even a single facet of my character. In fact, I may find myself submitting to my first bout of vapors if you were able."

His head bobbed back in surprise at her icy words. With every moment that passed, she felt strength pour into her very soul. A strength she had no knowledge that she ever possessed. Wherever it originated from, whether it had been laying within her dormant or had transferred to her from some unknown source, she was grateful for it; especially enclosed within the confines of this carriage, sitting diagonally from this man. She crossed her arms over her chest, conscious of the fact that it accentuated the low cut of her decadent costume.

Go ahead. Astonish me with the depths of her your knowledge about my person. Let's start with something simple. How I prefer my teas perhaps?"

The words seeped from her laced with venom. All of the years, the years of being ignored, abandoned, of loving someone unreciprocated, of the whispered rumors behind gloved hands, the anger and the humiliation she had felt over her position and situation, the person responsible for everything that had made her into the Lady she was at that moment sat before her. After all of this time, she finally had the person that had shaped her character without being present in the slightest. The person who most deserved her disregard, was finally here to reserve it, and she was wasting no time.

An amused smirk tilted on his lips and fury roared to life inside of her.  
"Is there something you find entertaining?"

His eyes continued to assess her, the long fingers of his hand reaching up to trace the shape of his plump lower lip. "I'm not certain yet."

She scoffed, leaving back against the lush velvet of the seat. Her eyes sought out the tell-tale physical landmarks in the darkness. Hoping beyond hope they would hint as to their location and they could put this farce to an end by arriving at her townhouse. Her memory revolted against this Niklaus who sat across from her. She had remembered a quiet, brooding, handsome, imposing man who always got his way. For the most part, her memory was accurate, he was still devilishly handsome, mercurially tempered, and was clearly used to his word being obeyed, but there was harsh differences that stood out glaringly. When they had wed three summers prior, he had been quiet but kind, not irritating and brash. His quiet reserved manner was one of the reasons that she had fallen so deeply in love with him. Now he seemed just as imposing, but in an altogether unsettling way. The impish smirk tugging at his beautiful lips made him seem almost playful, which would never had been a word that she had thought to describe her estranged husband.

In fact, Caroline was out of her depth on exactly what she was feeling at the moment. Her heart pounded in her chest at his proximity. The intoxicating smell of sandalwood and fresh grass swirling through her senses drugged her begging to pull her forward and bury her face in his neck. The dark shadows of the carriage cutting his face, if possible made him more dangerous, more handsome, more viral.

"I take it you're cross with me for some reason."

Disbelief flushed through her at his ignorant words. Could he not understand why she could possibly be angry? "Well done. I hope you didn't strain your mental capacities too much in coming to that conclusion."

He shifted a fraction forward his eyes narrowing, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. A sharp spike jumped through her as the pink tip disappeared, she pulled her gaze back from his mouth, intent to keep her wits about her. "Do you intend to enlighten me on what I've done to deserve your ire or do you intend to bombard me with childish insults for the rest of the evening?"

Caroline moved forward in turn, dropping her arms as she leaned closer. "There is a substantial list that I could pull from in which to garner something in which I would be cross with you over. Starting with the portion of this evening where you drug me out of a ballroom without any forethought to my reputation or person."

"I made it perfectly clear when I approached you tonight we had a prior engagement we needed to attend." Only the specific training from her governess stopped her from releasing an unladylike snort of derision from his words. She shook her head in incredulity.

"At what point did you make your intentions clear? When you commanded me via post that you were calling upon me? When you crassly told Lord Lockwood that you were taking me home without allowing me to give my apologies to both the hostess or the lady I attended that evening to chaperone? Regardless of your agenda, you could have had the decency as a gentleman to treat me with a modicum of respect." The words tumbled out of her in a rush, her chest heaved with anger, she could feel the flush staining her cheeks.

"And you're leaving me in your sitting room with your incompetent butler and your insolent maid without even a note? Was that showing me the proper respect I deserve not only as your husband but as a Lord of the realm?" Shame coursed through her at his words. True, he had treated her abysmally, but her widowed father had raised her to be the very epitome of a lady. It was an insult to his memory to act so ungallantly. If her late father had taught her one thing, it is the way that we treat other's that reveal the depths of ones characters, not the embellishments on one's name and station.

"I apologize for my behavior this evening as well the actions of the members of my staff. I will instruct them in the future to conduct themselves accordingly in the presence of a gentleman."

He didn't move, simply continued to stare at her with that puckish tilt to his lips. "I accept your apology, but I think it would be sensible if you were to consider hiring immediate replacements."

Anger returned in full grandeur. How dare he. "I don't believe how I manage my household is any of your concern."

"I beg to differ, as your husband it is also my reputation that suffers if your staff behaviors inappropriately among our peers. Also, as your husband I should not have to rationalize my decisions on any level. I believe your staff unsuitable and need to be dismissed."

The carriage rolled to a lazy halt. Caroline blinked as she grappled for her wits through the haze of her frustrations. The masquerade was only a short carriage ride from her town home, but it had seemed moments ago that they departed. Had she truly lost recollection of the entire journey? Klaus's sudden presences, from his arrival to his asinine protestations had completely thrown her for a loop.

Just like the moment he had reached forward and taken her hand within his that sunny afternoon in Hartfordshire, he had never ceased to confound her. She had never been particularly headstrong as a child, she had spent her life eager to please. Hoping that she could possibly fill the void her father felt at losing his wife and never securing an heir. It was rare for her to lose control of her temper. She could count the number of times she had lost control of her practiced reserve on one hand, but the longer that she spent time in his company, the harder it became for her to slip her icy mask of indifference on and treat him with cold indifference.

She forced a tight smile. "It's been a lovely evening, but I'm feeling rather weary and wish to retire." Without a single glance in his direction she was out of the carriage, her satin slippers crunching against the gravel towards her open door. It wasn't until she was handing her reticule and stole to her footman did she realize that Niklaus had followed closely behind her.

"Is there something else you require Lord Mikaleson?" She said tiredly, every moment that passed making her long for the confines of her quarters.  
And undecipherable look passed over his features. One that for the life of her Caroline could not read. It called an unpleasant thought to the surface of her mind. The double edged sword that, though her husband knew as little of her as he would a stranger, the same could certainly be said in reverse. She didn't know his favorite meal, his partiality in literature, whether he enjoyed music. How could you love someone you knew nothing of?

Her feet climbed up the stairs, moving several steps until she stood slightly higher than him. Caroline hoped that her move to retire would signal that it was time for him to leave.

"If you recall in my missive I spoke of an urgent matter that I needed to discuss with you."

She pursed her lips pressing one finger to her painted mouth as she feigned thought. "I do recollect something of that nature."

His hand clasped causally behind his back, he stepped forward. The gleaming sheen of his black hessians coming flush with the bottom step. "Well then, I'll instruct the servants to have the house packed up immediately. Good evening." He gave a curt bow, before turning on his heel and heading towards the waiting door being held open stoically by her young footman.

Caroline was after him in a second. "I beg your pardon." Her first thought roared through her. The one that had been stuck within her mind for the longest of times. If he thought that he could simply send her back to that…prison in the country, he was utterly mistaken. She would never go back there, not in a hundred years. "I will do no such think. If you think for a moment that you are going to barge in here, making demands, sending me back to THAT house you have lost your senses. I will not go."

He turned, their eyes locked in an unspoken challenge of wills. "Not at all. I intend to have your things relocated to my townhome first thing on the morrow."  
Of all the things Klaus could have possible said to her at that moment, the idea that he wanted her to dwell in his townhouse was the least likely. Caroline blinked, her body frozen in a state of shock. "That's…well… no absolutely not. I will do no such thing."

"Then I shall have to take up residence here. I assume the masters quarters have been well kept?"

She sputtered at his newest admission. "You were not invited to stay here my lord and I can assure you I am not going anywhere with you. Now. It is quite late, I don't know what this is all about but I insist you take your leave."  
If her words had made any impression upon her husband, he made no indication. He simply walked forward nonchalantly. His eyes analyzing every detail of her foyer from the wainscoting to the tapestries. "There's been quite enough of this. It's time that we lived together as husband and wife."

"It was you who engineered our separation my lord, not I."

"I am aware of my actions. I am also conscious of the fact that it is my place to attempt to bridge the gap between us."

He spoke so simply. As if the means of reparation were as easy as falling a tree across a small stream; in reality it was more fitting to deem an ocean lay between them.

"And if I refuse?"

His beautiful mouth tightened in irritation, his eyes flashing in kind. "You have two options Caroline. Either you consent to reside with me, or you allow me to take up residence here. That is all."

Their gazes held, locked. Caroline both cursed and praised that he could not read her mind and the words that were surely running across her face in bold script. After all this time you come back, and like this, when I've been waiting for you, all this time, and this is all you give me. Nothing.

"I prefer to reside here." She said succinctly.

He nodded in understanding. "Then I shall have my things brought by early tomorrow. I trust that will not be inconvenient."

She didn't say a word. She could not. Simply shook her head in response. He gave another curt bow before turning on his heel and disappearing out into the night.

* * *

Klaus took the stairs into his own home two at a time, tugging off the white linen of his cravat as he went. He was irritated beyond belief and once he found his footman he would sink into a glass of Brandy. "Jeremy?" he bellowed into the recesses of his home Shrugging off his great coat and tossing it languidly onto a chair. It was a few moments before the young man appeared, immediately taking up the coat and smoothing the wrinkles from the fabric.

"Brandy, my lord?" Jeremy said following behind Klaus towards his study.

"Please Jeremy." The fire had burnt down to embers, a signal that this evening had taken him a great deal longer than he would have liked. Without another glance he reached forward, tossing one of the split logs leaned casually against the brick fireplace onto the glowing coals. The wood crackled with the new found heat and within moments, the tell-tale tendrils of flames ignited the edges. He watched as the fire consumed the wood, the light from the flames brightening the shadowed room ever so slightly.

It wasn't often that someone got the upper hand on Niklaus Mikaleson. In fact, for many of his peers in the ton, it was said to be impossible. With 48 hours, not one person had managed the feat, but two. His mother he could have comprehended, she had been a sore thorn in his side for many a year and had bested him more than once. But his wife?

A vision of her rose in his mind. The golden wheat of bound had been bound elegantly at the nape of her neck. Even at night in the dim confines of his carriage had it looked like it had been kissed by the sun. He considered how her crystal blue eyes fringed by dark lashes had flashed at him in fury. How becoming the angry flush of her cheeks had looked against the creamy porcelain of her skin. He searched his memories for the girl he had married on his wedding day, but he could not find her. Instead the girl had been replaced by the absolute vision that was Caroline.

What had changed? And how had it taken him so long to see it? Caroline was unlike any Lady of the ton he had ever met; and of all the Ladies among his peers, she should be the one he was most familiar. Where most well-bred ladies sought to be quiet, kind, powerful without the use of words Caroline was outspoken, fiery, passionate…exquisite. His mind caressed the word as he appraised the picture of her in his mind. She was absolutely exquisite.

Where his green wife had once existed, somehow a strong woman had taken her place. One who had no qualms with arguing with him about matters that should have been decided. One that could rise his temper with a wave of her dainty hands. He mentally cataloged all of the rumors, stories, and mentioning's over the years that he had been privy too. Not a single one had hinted to her sudden change or insinuated that she were any different then she had been when he had left her at the great house. Her appearance was so markedly different, it was possible that he had run into her before and not even been aware of the fact. No. He shook his head at the thought, even if he had not known that she was his wife, he would have remembered her. He would have to ask Lord Salvatore in the morning. As his closest friend and actively seen around ballrooms and dinner parties, he was sure to have more information for him regarding the woman he married.

Tomorrow would be the beginning of change. He had informed her of the necessity that they remove the divide between them. Why he had not simply told her of the necessity of producing an heir he did not know. That was his intention after all, in calling upon her in the first place. Instead he let her rile his temper until he lashed out in kind. The matter of two people coupling in order to create a child was something that was essential to any marriage; it should have been a cut and dry conversation that left nothing to speculation. Instead he had allowed her face, her passion, and her biting words wrap him in a haze of a completely different kind, desire. It was foolish of him to desire her, to want her to come to his bed willingly. To see if that passion that spat so hotly in her words would ignite between his sheets.

But a fool he was.

"Your brandy, My lord." Jeremy's voice pulled him from his musings.

"Thank you Jeremy." He turned, grasping the heavy crystal tumbler between his fingertips. Jeremy gave a quick bow before moving to exit the study. Jeremy, though he was insolent at times new his masters wishes regarding his night time routine. He preferred to be alone in the evening hours, he always had. "Jeremy?"

"Yes, My lord?" Came the young man's reply.

"I will need my things packed for an extended holiday ready by early tomorrow." If the footman were surprised he gave no notion.

"Where would you like them sent?" He brought the glass to his lips, letting the cool ring and the tart taste of brandy linger before speaking.

"To Forbes house. We'll be residing there for the foreseeable future."

"Very well, my lord." And with that, he turned and left.


	4. Chapter 4

The Marriage Bed Part 4

 **A/N: I'm probably going to post this on ffnet pretty soon. Hopefully you like it.**

The house was in an uproar. Caroline had known since the carriages began to arrive long before dawn the current state of Forbes house's occupants, and she hadn't even left her bed. As hard as she tried after Niklaus's departure she could not find sleep. She had spent the majority of the night hours tossing back and forth beneath her counterpane, her mind thinking a million things at once.

It would not cease, she was plagued with thoughts of her husband. She internally replayed every moment of the evening. Her heart panged as his face swam in her mind's eye, she recalled the swelling feeling that had consumed her when she finally realized who he was, and that he was looking directly at her. Love, just being near him for one evening made her heart ache in her chest for something that did not exist. Out of every emotion roiling through her she couldn't dampen the most prominent, confusion.

Nik had been perfectly content for three years living separated. Caroline had devoutly written to him every month upon receiving her stipend. It was her duty, to inform him of the condition of her town home and the health of her person. Not once had he replied to her missives, remarking on a single of the issues she had petitioned him for. She had assumed that his Land Manager read and handled the majority of his correspondence. Once, when the roof of her home had begun to leak, a team had been hired to fix the weak spot without sending a card of acknowledgement first. Up until now, the process had been commonplace. Even the apparent personal disinterest by the Lord of the Estate to the only occupant of Forbes house, as a landowner, he had been quick to address any issues that arose. Her thoughts lingered over that word, Landlord, this was her father's house, her house.

Was it possible that he had been the one reading her correspondence after all?

Unlikely, but it could be one of the reasons for this sudden interest in reconciliation. She thought back to her past three letters trying to determine whether something within them could have tipped him toward this. To the heavy grunting and knocking of her staff and his downstairs moving her husband's things into her home.

Confusion quickly wove with an uncertain suspicion. What could he want from her? Something had to have changed. Something had to have occurred to make the notoriously steadfast Niklaus Mikaelson awake one day and decide that he wanted to uphold the sanctity of his marriage vows.

A clattering bang sounded from the next room and Caroline sighed heavily tossing back her blankets in frustration.

Her feet toed into her slippers as she stood reaching towards her wrapper folded neatly over the arm of her dressing chair. She shrugged into the thick wool, tying the belt around herself tightly.

Bonnie entered from the hallway quietly, pulling the door closed with a soft click. She turned catching sight of Caroline and stumbling backwards in surprise.  
"I'm sorry my Lady, you frightened me. I didn't expect you to be up at this hour."  
Caroline sank down at her dressing table, unwinding her hair form the thick rope of her braid. "It was rather difficult to stay abed with all the…" She did not finish her sentence, she did not have too.

Bonnie humphed from where she stood, coming up behind Caroline and taking the heavy silver brush from the table top. With long fluid strokes she began to pull it through the seated woman's thick dark hair. "He's got all of his servants and yours lugging trunks around. It isn't right, him showing up after all this time. Putting on airs."

Caroline couldn't agree more, her thoughts hadn't thinking of the very thing since the previous evening. Bonnie had been Caroline's ladies made since she was fifteen years old. They had grown up together, she had been her friend more than anything else. She was there when Niklaus left her, watched her cry for days over the very man who was now tearing the very fabric of her life to pieces.  
"I appreciate you acting as my champion, but I do want you to attempt to be courteous to Lord Mikaelson. He will be staying here with us and—"She paused, searching for the words to say next. "—it would be best if he were not intentionally provoked."

Bonnie began sectioning off her hair, rolling one side backward with small moves of her deft hands.

"After how he treated you? Dropping you off in the country, acting like you don't exist, stringing a parade of them light skirts under your very nose. It isn't right. I don't know why you allowed him to move in here after all that."

"I didn't really have a choice Bonnie. He is my husband; he has every right to live here if he chooses." Bonnie continued her work without faltering, rolling the other side of Caroline's hair backwards and securing it with a pin.

"He doesn't deserve you miss. That's all I'm going to say."

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Here she was, plain old Caroline. "Thank you Bonnie."

"Now let's make sure you look so divine he knows it too. I was thinking the green muslin would look absolutely heavenly on you."

She smiled despite the sinking feeling inside of her. "I assure you, that isn't necessary."

Bonnie gave her a wicked smile, twisting the remainder of her hair up into a coil at the nape of her neck. "It couldn't hurt."

* * *

Niklaus walked quickly passed the stoic middle aged butler who was bowing at the waist in respect. He did not wait to be shown to the study, he knew the way. He had spent about as much time at the Winter house as he had his own over the years.

Nicholas had known Stefan Salvatore for most of his life. They had attended school together. Of all of the children of the members of the ton they had been sent to Eaton to be educated, Stefan was the only other man there that resented the position he was born too. At a young age, Stefan's older brother Damon had contracted scarlet fever, leaving Stefan to take the mantel of Duke his brother left upon his demise. They had bonded over their distaste for the aristocracy. Klaus too wanted more from his life then to serve his name. He had wanted adventure, danger, he wanted the opportunity to make his own choices rather than being a slave his lineage. In the throughs of their youth they had even planned to join the East India Trading company rather than take up their familial seat. It was the whimsy of their distaste, their aspirations never came to fruition.  
Age brought the practicality of their situation, the necessity to act in accordance to tradition. As time passed they never escaped the duties of their birthright, but they had remained close through the years. Indeed Stefan was the only person he could really consider his friend.

It was commonplace for Nicholas to barge in on the Duke as he was currently doing now. For a myriad of reasons some simply that he sought company. Other, like today, he was conflicted and wished for the wisdom of his friends advice. Stefan was born with a rigidly upright backbone, and had ceded to the responsibilities of the dukedom and the answering circles that it required him to travel in. A circle that included his wife.

"Ripper?" He queried as he pushed open the study door, peering inside. Choosing to address his friend by their schoolyard nickname rather than the title. Stefan sat behind a massive mahogany desk, his eyes boring into a piece of parchment before him.

"I'm here." He said simply, waving Nicholas inside. Nik pushed his way into the room, shutting the heavy door behind him as he moved forward.

"Being positively lazy I see."

"You know me." Stefan replied dryly.

"I can only assume it has something to do with how positively important you are?"

Stefan put down the paper in his hand, raking a hand through his mussed locks and heaving a great sigh. "Naturally."

"Well then, I'm sorry to have to distract you."

"I'm not." Stefan stood, moving to the sideboard where a delicate tray was littered with crystal decanters. He motioned a glass towards Klaus in question and he shook his head to decline the offer. With a loud pop he uncorked the bottle of Port and sloshed some into one the glasses. Sun glinted through the window fracturing off of the glass and splintering light around the room. "What can I do for you old man?"

"I am actually in need of some information."

Blatant curiosity peaked on his friends face. "Fire away."

Nicholas shifted forward in his seat a fraction of an inch, leaning the majority of his weight onto the balls of his feet.

"What do you know about my wife?"

A mischievous smile broke across Stefan's face. "Now this is a surprise."

"Do you intend to tell me? Or are you going to continue staring at me like an imbecile?"

Stefan shuffled back over to his desk, sitting down in the plush chair. "I take it you've seen her."

"I have."

"She's quite lovely isn't she?"

"Stefan…" Klaus growled in warning.

"Now what I find interesting, is why someone with such a distaste for his marriage would be inquiring after his wife?" Stefan leaned forward, placing his glass on the rich wood before him and twisting his lips into a smug smirk.

"Elijah is dead." His friend became instantly somber. The smile nowhere to be found.

"I had not heard. I'm sorry." He said earnestly. Klaus acknowledged the apology with an inclination of his head, choosing not to elaborate on the topic. He felt no need to broach something he had not completely grieved for yet. When he was at peace with it he would share his feelings on the matter.

"It is now up to me to carry on my families name." The Duke gave an understanding nod.

"What would you like to know?"

"You attended my wedding, the woman that I encountered last night was nothing like the girl I walked down the aisle at my family estate." No. The woman that he has sparred with last night was a temptation he no longer could ignore. He had left a girl, a girl who he could barely remember. In her place stood a goddess. One as golden as the sun. He could imagine her laying amongst his sheets, her skin lain bare and warmed by the sun's rays as he worshiped her long into the late morning.

"That goes without saying."

"When did she become so markedly altered?" This was something he desperately needed to know.

Stefan took a moment to consider, the humming of his search indicating his thoughts. "It was a gradual process. A small change here, and there. I had forgotten that she was not the woman that I know now, but she has altered a great deal. By many accounts she is considered one of the most beautiful women of the ton."

Klaus believed it. No, he knew the words that his friend spoke to be true. Caroline was beautiful to be sure, but the type of beauty that the more you looked, the more beautiful she became. "And you did not think to tell me?"

Stefan gave a noncommittal shrug. "It did not cross my mind in all honesty." He paused, giving his friend a knowing look. "Would it have changed anything if I had?" He wanted to say yes. To say that if he had known that the woman he married was the same woman who had robbed him of any semblance of sleep last night he would have marched over to her father's townhouse years ago to stake his claim. But even in his mind he knew that it was a falsity. He would not have believed the stories of his wife, not unless he had beheld her with his own eyes. "So you intend to reconcile?"

"We spoke last night, my things are being moved into her townhome as we speak."

Another eyebrow lifted. "I bet she adored that."

"She understood that as her husband I am entitled to go wherever I please." He leaned back in the chair, irritation welling up as last night's argument surfaced in his mind. "I must say I did not expect her to be so difficult."

"You would think that a woman whose husband showed up after years of absence and told his wife that they needed to produce and heir would be a bit more gracious."

He shot Stefan a murderous glare. "You're enjoying this entirely too much."

"Too Right. So what did she say when you told her?" Guilt panged through him. He pushed it away as he shifted his weight uncomfortably. He opened his mouth to speak, to refute the notion but no words came. A beat passed, then two. "You've got to be jesting, you were really daft enough not to tell her?"

"I intend for my wife to enter my bed willingly." Yes, she would come to him because she desired him. Once he set blaze to the passion resting barely below the surface of her skin, she would seek him out, conscious of the fact that only he could douse the ache inside of her. He felt his trousers swell and he crossed his legs to stem his enthusiasm.

"Then I should tell you. There have been rumors."

"What rumors?"

"That she has taken lovers in the past."

Jealousy jolted through him like a lightning bolt. Possessiveness making him want to claw his way out of his jacket and strangle Stefan for even implying it. Rationality set in a moment later, he had not been faithful during his marriage, was he foolish enough to expect Caroline to do the same? She was more beautiful than any woman had the right to be, she had no husband carefully looking over her shoulder. If he were in anyone else's position he would certainly have pursued her.

Hell he was pursuing her now, and he was the only man who had the right to her flesh.

"It's of no import. There won't be anyone but me in the future."

"Your expression indicates otherwise." Stefan said simply raising his tumbler to his lips. Klaus gave him a shrug, shoving himself into a standing position as he began to head for the door. "She'll kill you when she finds out." His friend called after him as he grasped the cool brass of the handle to lead him back out to the hallway.

Klaus gave him a smirk over his shoulder as he shouldered his way through the door. "Then she won't find out will she?"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you for everyone who's stuck with me through the interminable wait for this chapter. Just to let the lovely person that messaged me on Tumblr the other day asking of this update that it is because of you that this is here. ILY. Please remember to review.**

* * *

Caroline's morning couldn't have gotten anymore awful if the sun had fallen clean out of the sky.

It was while Bonnie was arranging Caroline's hair into an ensemble on the top of her head and remarking onto the benefits of the green muslin that the noise seemed to swell to a fever pitch. An indistinguishable pressure settled itself between her brows and she could fee her temples begin to ache with the beginnings of a headache. She pursed her lips staring at their reflection in the mirror. Niklaus was the person who had manifested the chaos that was currently occurring in her home. How convenient he should be absent to witness it.

She inwardly scoffed as the thought welled into her mind. Convenient? Hardly. Even with Caroline's modest knowledge of her husband's character his orchestration of a nuisance without have to fall victim to the terrible affects seemed frightfully common place. He was exactly the kind of man to cause a upheaval such as this.

Irritation puckered at her as the pressure continued to build behind her eyes. Bugger it. The internal use of the profanity sent a reassuring thrill through her. Bonnie had placed her final pin and was tugging lightly at her golden strands to give them more volume. She looked regal in a careless way that hinted that she wasn't even trying. A way that Caroline could never dream of achieving without her friend's daily assistance. The thought crossed her mind as it always did, what in the world would she do without Bonnie.

"You've done it again. How you have achieved such talent is beyond me… It leaves me frightfully envious." Caroline watched her friend's reflection in the mirror as Bonnie gave her a beaming smile. Leaving forward a little to pluck at the halo of curls.

"It simply takes practice. I have no doubt that if you engaged more actively you'd excel greatly. You are kind enough to sit still when I come upon one of my whims."

Caroline angled her head to inspect her coif further. It really was stunning, an adornment fit for a gown as decadent as the green muslin, if Caroline had any desire to put the blasted thing on.

"I suppose I'll have to spend more time at it since I find myself increasingly inadequate with each passing day. Perhaps you will return the face and sit with me this evening so I can learn?"

"Of course." Bonne said moving towards the massive wardrobe. A loud banging sounded directly outside the door followed by the muted mutterings of the movers. Her temples flashed with pain at the sound and she reached up lightly to rub the tender area. She needed to get out of then newly created circle of hell that once been her home before her headache grew to a full blown megrim.

"Please fetch me my riding habit Bonnie. The Maroon one, I think."

Bonnie faltered for a moment before rebounding, the green muslin draped over her arm, ready to be pressed. "But it is hours until the fashionable time in Hyde Park. It would be improper to go out so early by yourself."

Caroline sighed shifting on the baroque cushion to face Bonnie fully. "Then I shall take a groom with me. At the moment I could use the silence of a solitary ride."

Understanding dawned as a smash could be heard from somewhere below. Without another word Bonnie returned the muslin, opting for the high necked heavy fabric of the Maroon habit instead.

"Is there anything you need? I plan to visit Bond street later this afternoon and would be more than happy to pick up anything you require." She stood shucking of the thin silk of her robe and moving to be fitted with her dress.

"Some of those chocolates that you always purchase for yourself but never eat because you know I'm fond of them would be nice." Her maid quipped causing Caroline to let out a soft bark of laughter as the girl began tightening the laces of her corset.

"Anything else?" Bonnie hummed in thought. Caroline placed her hands on her stomach, steadying herself, as the corset continued to be tightened in place.

"A new ball gown for yourself, I think. Something sinful. Something daring." With a final tug Bonnie wound the laces into a neat bow at her back. Caroline turned fixing Bonnie was a bemused expression.

"You're awful." She chastised playfully.

She didn't even stutter in her response.

"I'm honest."

* * *

Klaus arrived home directly after the noon hour with renewed resolve in his quest. Stefan's information had been eye opening to say the least, but it was essential for his current situation. It was only right to know exactly he was getting himself into. He would do the same thing if he were contemplating investing in a business venture. He found his wife was a favorite among the members of the ton. Not only for her paramount beauty, but her kindness, her severity when called upon it and the most important credential the wife of one of the oldest earldom's in England.

Most notably however, his wife was known among the Ton for the spectacular speculation about her affairs. Which to his surprise were shockingly mundane. No names of note were ever bandied around in connection to her, and there were no reputable witnesses to any public behavior that could be deemed improper. If Klaus had not seen with his own eyes Caroline smiling prettily up at that Fop Lockwood he would almost consider the rumors to be just that. Rumors.

But there was no mistaking the look of unaltered lust in Lockwood's gaze as he feasted upon the line of Caroline's person in that dress. It probably mirrored his own the moment realization dawned and his irritation at her sending him on a merry goose chase became awareness to reality.

Was Lockwood her current lover? Did they meet for their assignation in this home? In her bed?

He felt possessiveness grip him again and he jaw tightened hard while his right hand flexed at his side. He flagged a passing footman beating the path from the back door up the stairs to the master's suite.

"Can you please summon Mikealson for me." He turned to move into the library, hoping beyond hope that they had managed to unpack the brandy by now. He had strategy to think about, and he always did his very best planning when enjoying a glass of spirits.

"I'm sorry my lord. My lady is unavailable at present."

Suspicion fluttered through him and his teeth gritted as ideas buoyed up within him. His mind filtered back to last evening, to being kept in the sitting room down the hall only to be later told that they lady was not at home.

"Why exactly is that?" The young man looked like he didn't want to answer Klaus's biting question. He was trying and failing to keep his voice as collected as possible.

"She is not at home at present." His eyes flew to the massive grandfather clock perched stoically in the entrance hall.

"And where might she be?" The question currently raging through his mind went off like a bomb inside of him. After a long night out as a woefully eventful as the previous evening he would have assumed that his wife would still be abed, perhaps even seated primly in the sitting room entertaining the slough of guests vying for her attention. But gone?

"I'm not certain my Lord. She left with a footman early this morning."

"How early?" He spat.

"A quarter to nine." His eyebrows flew upwards in surprise. Another crumbling piece to the image he had painted of her during their conversation falling away. He reminded himself not to be thrown, his wife it seemed was full of surprises.

After all, she never bloody well remained where she was supposed to be.

"Do you know when to expect her return?" The man looked exceedingly uncomfortable as he stood before Klaus. He hoisted the box he was holding in his arms, a slight reminder that he was currently engaged without speaking out of turn to the Lord of the house.

"I'm sorry my Lord. I don't." With an angst riddled huff he dismissed the footman, taking a look around the contents of what would be him home for the foreseeable future. He supposed he would simply have to wait. He nearly groaned aloud with the thought.

He hated waiting.

* * *

Despite fighting the monstrosity of a headache she has been afflicted with her day had turned decidedly pleasant. Bonnie had been correct at the status of Hyde Park in the early morning. The grounds were positively deserted and the exercise mixed with the crisp air of the early morning soothed her ailment. As she had reached mid trail she felt fully recovered. Her fingers itched as she trotted slowly through the lush ground and it was then she did something she had not done since she had packed up her life and come to London in pursuit of her husband. She kicked hard and with a delighted "yah" brought her mount to full speed.

The air rushed around her, wind biting her cheeks as she flew across the park. When she had reached the opening she finally allowed herself to slow back to a trot. A beaming smile stretching upon her face like she had not done in years. Her footman arrived moments later, his cheeks red from the cold and his hair whipped by the wind. She was sure she looked equally as disheveled and she knew Bonnie would be giving her an earful upon her arrival home. She honestly couldn't find it in herself to feel guilty about the destruction of her updo, she felt better than she had in ages, and at current upheaval occurring in her life that was quite the feat.

Her footman didn't seem to mind the exercise either giving her a vibrant grin as they amble their horses towards a trough. Nine might not be the fashionable hour, but it was definitely more enjoyable. She was resolute that she would engage in the early morning activity whenever possible.

After that she has visited Elena. They spoke briefly, remarking on the party the evening prior and made plans to go to the meeting at the historical society the day after next. Caroline did not know why she had failed to tell Elena about her evening with her husband. Elena never broached the subject of Caroline's separation, she was not impolite enough to be nosy. But Elena was kind and would have offered her a nonjudgmental ear. Next time Caroline bartered as she left Elena's and made her way to Bond Street. Admitting it, saying it aloud would make these situation real and Caroline desperately wanted to deny the reality for as long as possible.

Hours had flown by on Bond Street, Caroline making one purchase then the next in a wild attempt to distract herself. Before she knew it the sky had darkened to a murky gray, and it became apparent that the time to return home had arrived. With the obvious flagging of exhaustion plucking at her and her footman steadfastly in her wake she navigated her horse back to her townhome.

The purchases should be arriving shortly, having been purchased with the express instructions to be delivered to Forbes residence by that evening or early morrow. Caroline was grateful when she was grateful when she was able to hand the reigns over to a groom to give Delilah a well-deserved rub down.

She removed her gloves one by one, content at least that the noise had stopped and the house could resume the illusion of calm. She wasn't four feet from her door when a voice filtered through the hallway.

"I see you've made it home." Klaus emerged from the open door of the library. Caroline's brows drew together as she caressed the shockingly handsome figure of the man before her who looked increasing dangerous with the shadows of the dark room behind him slashing across his face.

"Yes." She affirmed slowly.

He braced his hands behind his back, something that he seemed to do instinctually when that infuriating smirk was tugging at his equally infuriating mouth. Caroline had to stop herself from moving back from him, his proximity to her, especially when his teasing expression contrasted so violently to the murderous set to his shoulders. "You must have had an eventful day, seeing as you missed dinner this evening." Her eyes flew to the clock, confusion etching her brow as she tossed her gloves on the sidebar.

"Dinner is served every day at seven. I have not missed anything."

He gave her tight smile as he ambled another few steps towards. "I dined nearly an hour past. That seems a little contradictory."

Caroline was not going to let this man ruin what little enjoyment she still held from her day. She opened her mouth, aware of the barbed tone she was delivering. "If you were stalking around in the mood you are in at present making demands I wouldn't be surprised that the staff didn't have the heart to tell you dinner has, and always will be served at 7:00 o'clock at Forbes house." Klaus took a deep breath, and she was sure that she was finished. He had made it perfectly clear last night that he was well versed when it came to engaging in an argument, and even more versed in the art of using satire in order to drive the point home. She had fully expected a list of sharp insults launched her way, each as condescending as the next ripping her mood, and her sanity to shreds.

Imagine her surprise. When she watched as his eyes closed for a moment and then opened with an entirely different glaze then before.

"I apologize I should not have assumed."

What in the world? Mild shock arched through her, and she looked at him as if he were going to lash out at her at any moment. She spoke her next words carefully.

"No you should not have. We keep city hours here."

He gave her a small smile. The murderous set to his frame has bled into a casual lean, and she found the 180 distressing. "You seem refreshed. Hopefully you were able to accomplish what drove you out of the house so early this morning."

"Yes, I did." She replied as politely as possible, before recovering enough to remember her ire. "But it was not an activity that drove me from my bed. It happened to be the noise."

He had the intelligence to look repentant. "I apologize for any inconvenience my men may have caused. We will not have cause for it again."

"Thank you." That sentiment at least she meant wholeheartedly. Caroline moved to trek upstairs, her habit was in dire need of a washing and she had spent so much time on a horse today she probably smelled as if she could be one herself.

"Do you have plans for the evening?" She was startled for the second time that evening. Her eyes stared at his passive expression. He intended to know if she had an event that she was required to attend that evening. At least, it seemed, in the most finite sense he had learned from their altercation the evening prior.

"I had none no. The day has been excessively long, I thought I might retire for the evening, seeing as dinner has already been served I may take a tray in my room, though I admit I do not feel particularly hungry."

"You should eat." He instructed more than offered. He paused for a moment, then two. "I intend to take brandy in the library if you'd care to join me."

"Thank you but I think not." This time she really did make a move towards the staircase.

"And what about tomorrow?" She turned, frustration dancing through her.

"What about tomorrow?" She said tiredly.

"Do you have plans for tomorrow?"

"Do you?" Somehow she had lost her facade of civility. She was frustrated. She was frustrated and tired and simply wanted to go to sleep without the continued disruption from this man that had taken her life and within 48 hours turned it completely upside down.

"If you were have plans for tomorrow, perhaps you would allow me to accompany you."

"What game are you playing?" He may be her Lord and husband, but she did not owe him anything. They lived a part. The money he provided her had come from her ample dowry. She had not called upon him, pressed herself upon him, pestered him, or more importantly demanded the one thing that she had wanted more than anything in the world. And Answer. That ended today.

"I beg your pardon."

"I find this situation increasingly more vexing the longer we pretend that this situation is common place. I want to know what you want. Why you are really here?" He seemed surprised by her words, offended even.

"And I have to want something?"

Caroline responded without a misstep. "I'm not a fool. Neither have I forgotten the circumstances that have brought us to this point and our obvious odds we found ourselves out last night. I can only speculate what could have possibly happened to feign interest in me in order to get it. I am an adult sir, and your wife. Speak plainly what you reacquire and let's be done with it."

He inclined his head slightly, as if to suggest that she was overreacting and that she should attempt to reign it in. It was an action that was employed often in ballrooms where drink was flowing freely and inhibitions became low. "I think you read too deeply into things."

"And I think you've forgotten that you weren't the only one that's been in this marriage for the past three years." Her mouth pursed as if she'd tasted something entirely sour. That wasn't entirely inaccurate, as the taste of her failed marriage had been masticating in her mouth from the moment she took her vows.

"I assure you Caroline. I have not feigned anything."

She hated herself, because the moment he spoke those words, his sparkling midnight eyes set solely upon her, his mouth curving around her name like a prayer. Her heart jumped in her chest. It hurt, and she wanted to reach up and rub the skin over the organ to make it stop.

She averted her gaze. "History is suggesting otherwise."

Another sigh escaped him, and as much as Caroline wanted to look back at him. Look at her husband, look at the man she had spent years pining over, hopelessly in love with, she couldn't allow it. "I admit that my actions, especially the ones regarding our union have been unwise…"

She let out a cruel laugh, her eyes rolling to the ceiling. "Unwise. That may be the understatement of the century."

"But is it not my place to make amends?" He pressed, his voice beautifully coaxing. His eyes dancing as he gazed at her with something that looked like genuine affection. Which couldn't be correct, as he hadn't had enough time in her presence to decide if he was fond of her.

"I suppose you are right." She admitted, knocking her head to the side in affirmation. "Though I must admit, you have quite a lot to amend for."

A devilish smile broke across his face as he looked at her. Her stomach fluttered and her heartbeat kicked into overtime. As he delivered his final words. "I'll take that as a challenge."

She blinked pulling her eyes away, turning her back to him, and with shaking legs making her way up the stairs to her chambers. "I think it be best that I retire for the evening."


	6. Chapter 6

**The Marriage Bed**

 **A/N: Hey everyone. Sorry about the wait. Thank you for bearing with me and continuing to read and review this story. You guys are lovely and really the inspiration why I write and especially the last person who reviewed. It's because of you that I finally got myself in enough gear to get this out. Hopefully you enjoy.**

* * *

There was little Caroline enjoyed more than the solace of an early morning ride. Having grown up in the country with a father that despised the artifice of London society and everything is represented; there was little diversions for a young girl on the cusp of womanhood. As accomplished young ladies tended to be drawn to what were considered more ladylike pursuits, for Caroline, there was only so much pianoforte, embroidery, and painting one's sanity and fingers could bear. She tried, Lord above knew that she tried to adhere to the expectations of her gender, and place in society. Yet after hours sat perched before an easel and her most valiant effort to capture the picturesque countryside of her families' estate she had ascertained only one thing. She had absolutely no talent with a brush. In fact the only notoriety Caroline would ever receive for her work with the paints is if someone were to pay her to cease her paltry attempts for the rest of eternity.

Once she had given up her attempts to refine her hand at artistry Caroline committed herself to her piano lessons. In a stroke of luck, or simply sheer determination to not fail at two accepted pastimes her practice had made notably proficient at the keys. With the addition of her fondness for singing, she became a sitting room favorite among the small dinner parties that her father allowed her to attend. For some reason, people enjoyed hearing her sing, and for a time the young simple Lady Caroline enjoyed being the center of her peer's attention. But with the novelty from her triumph over the pianoforte wearing thin, it too became wearisome and she searched for a new pastime to stem the suffocating boredom she felt day in and day out.

Embroidery was mind numbing, and other than the fact that there was a great deal of time she wanted to avoid thinking of anything of consequence, she hated it. Hated it with every fiber of her being. If it wasn't for the fact that a certain level of respectability was attached with a ladies ability to pull a clean stitch, she would never have bothered with the pastime at all.

No it was riding that gave Caroline the most pleasure. The freedom she was able to capture from the fraction of her day spent atop a mount. The only time she ever had any control over her own destiny, as a young child, and even now as a wife of an aristocrat. There was nothing quite like the thrill of the wind whipping at her cheeks. Her horse moving benevolently beneath her, it's legs a steady rhythm, straining to go faster than before, to jump higher, to move sharper. Her eyes closed at the memory, as Delilah, her mare twitched nervously beneath her itching for the same exhilaration that Caroline was at the moment. It was highly improper of her. In fact if she were to ever be caught riding the way she had done so impulsively yesterday it would certainly set tongues wagging.

London thrived on gossip, the product of having too many bored lady's at home while their husbands were away with nothing to do. All Caroline needed was for her name to have even more scandal attached to it. She could only imagine the sitting room prattle she'd be subjected too. The whispers that were low enough to make a false sense of secrecy but only just loud enough so she could hear.

It was Niklaus that was causing her unrest. If it wasn't for him and his uninvited arrival into her life she'd be able to make sense of the conflicting forces waging war inside of her. She was furious, upset, hopeful, and suspicious all at once. His displays of completely opposite personalities last night had confused her, at first he'd been angry, hostile even. And then within seconds he had become charming, playful, and enjoyable even. The ton was going to talk regardless, it was only a matter of time before the gossiping harridans found out that Lord Mikaelson had taken up residence in Forbes House and the cycle would start anew. So what if she were spotted enjoying riding dangerously. She needed an outlet, something to ease the pressure buoying up inside of her or she would burst into a thousand pieces under the stress.

It had been one night since Niklaus had taken up residence in the Master's chambers and already he had robbed her of two nights of sleep. She rose well before the sun, despite her lack of respite. And instead of waiting the hours before the Lord arose and made her even more uncomfortable then she had after their minor argument the evening prior, she decided to leave the house for her morning ride in the same manor she had the day before. She didn't mind honestly, Hyde Park wasn't considered fashionable until much later in the morning. Nowadays, it was used just as much as a fashion statement as the most decadent of balls so it was considered faux pas for someone to utilize the sprawling greens without spending hours manicuring one's appearance. In fact, other than her mount ambling along the manicured gravel walk way, the only person's around were a handful of grooms, exercising some horseflesh that looks like they didn't get near enough exercise, poor dears. Needless to say they wouldn't mind her haphazard appearance, in their mind, it was just some lady out for a ride. It was a calming thought, knowing that they'd do their best to avoid her, not because of her station mind you, but because out of anything she'd just be in their way. They had a job to do, and they were going to do it whether some woman was in the park at an ungodly hour or not. They weren't caught up in the pretense of the aristocracy. There was such honesty in that. It reminded her of her father, it reminded her of the country, and it reminded her of home. A deafening bought of homesickness washed over her.

Delilah fidgeted beneath her and she let her gloved hand stroke the black hair of the mare's neck, letting her touch soothe the dancing horse. Delilah reared her head shaking as her feet tapped the gravel with crunching clicks, with a heavy snort of air Caroline spoke. "I know girl, I know." It wasn't fair to Delilah either, the restrictions imposed upon them in town. Delilah was as high spirited as they came, and without the proper exercise she'd become increasingly restless.

It was another excuse, and excuse to shuck pretense and behave in the way she truly wanted, to ride the way she truly wanted without listening to the small voice in the back of her head telling her it was a bad idea. Her heart began to pump as her muscled tensed. Delilah felt Caroline's change in intention and stalled in preparation, ready for her master's demand that would set them both free.

A smile broke across her face, and with a sharp kick of her heels and a slap of her reigns she was sailing across the countryside once more. Delilah thundered, her body going from perfect stillness to a full gait in the matter of second.

Caroline crowed as they wove there way between two large trees, barreling through the woods as if they were running for their lives.

In a way, they were.

Even in the middle of London, Caroline was able to find her way home after all.

* * *

Niklaus had slept well the night before. The accommodations of the master's chambers, even though they had been without a tenant for many years were much more comfortable then he had anticipated they would be. The bed and dressings of the room had been well kept, and he was pleased that the room did not contain the musty dampness that some rooms that had been unoccupied for some time seemed to acquire.

In fact it was very pleasing for Klaus to know that one of his properties was so well looked after. Even though the Forbes townhouse had been in his holding since his marriage to Caroline, the night previous where he informed Caroline of his intentions that they would cohabit was the first time he had crossed the threshold. Despite the late Master Forbes's aversion to town, he certainly had no aversion to making sure that his property was well maintained. And even though William Forbes had passed on shortly after his wedding the man's only daughter, it seemed that his daughter had inherited the man's attention to care to his property.

He had slept quite a bit longer than he would normally, having taken to the study with a glass of port after his conversation with Caroline. Before he knew it the night had trickled away to early morning when he managed to tear himself away from the book he had been reading and to shuffle himself up to the room that would for the foreseeable future be his new home. The book had been a distraction, something of keeping him from thinking about the woman, his wife, that was sleeping somewhere directly above him.

She was ostensibly stubborn.

And opinionated.

And absolutely had no intention of giving him any sort of quarter regarding his behavior towards her prior to their new living arrangements.

By any right, he should sit her down and demand that she do exactly what was required as his wife. For god's sake, the night that he had gone tearing after her in his carriage and bribed his way into some confounded costume party he intended to do just that. Then she had gone and completely mucked up everything that he had calculated by looking him square in the face and basically telling him to go to the devil.

She was infuriating.

Maddening.

Exasperating.

And for some reason he was so fascinated by her conduct, he'd gone ahead and moved his way into her home hell bent on figuring her out.

And figuring a way into her bed.

Now he simply had to figure a way to accomplish it.

It wouldn't be easy. From every interaction that they had had up to that point she made no secret that she was suspicious of him, and why shouldn't she be? The last thing anyone could claim was that he was a model husband.

But he had spoke the truth last night when he was looking up at the lush figure of his wife on the steps to the upper floor. Her eyes weary, her skin paler than moonlight. Her long lashes, fluttering in a way that was so innocent that it stirred something deep within him.

He loved a challenge.

He was moving his way into the dining room, ready to start the long process of coaxing the spirited woman he was just begun to know between his sheets. Needless to say he was not pleased when he found the room empty.

The servants came within moments.

Setting trays upon the tables as quietly as possible before rushing from the room leaving only the familiar figure of Jeremy to his right. At least he had one ally in the game of cat and mouse. Caroline's servants were steadfastly loyal to her which had proven to him on many occasions where they concealed her true location from him. It spoke volumes about her character. However, it didn't change the fact that Klaus's character remained equally as steadfast. He was a man who got what he wanted, and if he wanted to know where Caroline Mikaelson had been sequestering herself since his arrival he would employ any means necessary to find out.

"Has the Lady risen yet this morning?"

Jeremy moved forward, giving him a curt bow as he was addressed. "I believe she's already left the house this morning my lord. They were preparing a horse when I woke up. It hadn't even reached the eighth hour yet."

Klaus did not speak at that, his mind wandered, thinking with calculated thoroughness on what would possibly prompt a woman to leave her house before it could even be considered dawn. It was peculiar. Such devious measures to avoid him pointed to something sinister, and with the limited knowledge he had of her reputation it pointed to one very jarring thought. Wouldn't the perfect time to meet a lover be when everyone is asleep?

Jeremy had worked for Klaus a long time, nearly seven years now. He was young, working at a gaming hell disguised as a boarding house in Mayfair. Klaus had been playing cards that night with Stefan and a few gents with no title but plenty of blunt to throw around. Jeremy had been working the back rooms running drinks, food, and garbage, anything that was thrown at him. He was wiry, but even at as young as he was Klaus could tell he was a dedicated worker. A drunk at one of the tables in the corner had gotten up and fallen down, upending the table and causing quid, pounds, and chips to fly everywhere. The owner had decided to take out his frustration on Jeremy.

Needless to say Klaus disagreed with that decision.

Jeremy had been with him ever since, and not for a single day since had the boy's loyalty wavered."

"What do they say downstairs?" Klaus continued to pick at his food. Waiting patiently for the answer he was certain Jeremy had already harvested from the members of Caroline's staff.

"Apparently she's a creature of habit. Has a weekly schedule she hardly ever breaks. Usually takes a tray in her room every morning before going out for a ride. Tuesday's she goes shopping on Bond Street and then visits her closest friend, a Miss Gilbert."

Ah, well at least that explained her absence from the house yesterday.

"Wednesday's she visits a house in cheap side. They weren't no mention of the particulars of why, but she spends most of the day there before heading back to the house. Thursday seems to be her open day, she sometimes goes out but most of the time she stays at home going over the estate finances and consulting with the housekeeper on the particulars."

If he didn't know any better, he'd say his wife was shockingly dull in comparison to the fiery vixen that he'd been facing off with for the past few nights. There had to be something he was missing. Was it the house in Cheapside? Was that where her secret lie?

"Friday and Saturday she usually attends an engagement. Sometimes she goes to the opera, other times she accompanies Miss Gilbert to events around town as her chaperone. Sunday she attends church alone before coming back for an early night. Monday is usually spent at one of the various organizations she is involved in."

"I see." Klaus said cryptically as he took a bit of coddled egg. "These organizations, were you able to learn any of their names."

"Of course, my lord. She's a member of the historical society, a notable benefactor for the arts, the board of the museum dedicated to preserving the history of England, and a literature group."

Klaus's confusion grew, none of those things were grandiose enough to cause concern. Thus far everything seemed mundane at best. He wanted to know, he wanted to know about the one question he had burning inside of him since he had spoken to Stefan.

"And visitors?"

Jeremy moved forward to refill Klaus's cup of tea for him. He murmured his thank you as he continued to push around the food on his plate.

"Other than Miss Gilbert and a few older ladies from the organizations. There's none."

Satisfaction welled within him. Relief dousing the hot flames of jealousy that the thought of Caroline and a lover making love under this roof had raged to life inside of him. He knew that if she was meeting up with that bastard Lockwood, it had to be somewhere where she was able to avoid detection. He'd simply have to find a way to ensure that she no longer had the opportunity.

And he was certain he had it.

"Jeremy have the men ready the coach for departure."

Jeremy bowed sharply. "Very good, my lord."

"It seems we're making a visit to cheap side."

* * *

With her hands placed tightly over her eyes she nestled herself against the wall listening to the feverish giggling from behind her.

With purpose she spoke loudly. "One…Two… Three…" With small shrieks that never failed to bring a smile to her face she heard the sound of feet rushing away from her as she continued to count upwards to ten. When she finally reached the number she turned sharply on her feet, before calling out to the now quiet house around her. "Ready or not here I come!"

In the distance she heard a giggle, and then the echoing sounds of footprints down the hallway by the front door. Caroline was rushing forward, intent on catching one of her prey in the act. She moved as fast as quietly as possible before she rounded the hallway and leapt towards the continuing footprints.

"I got you." She said triumphantly.

That was until her eyes realized exactly who she was staring at. It was not the two foot tall children she was currently looking for in their game of hide and seek. It was a much taller, much broader, much more imposing figure standing before her. As her eyes continued their assent up the strong line of his body before coming face to face with that of her husband.

She moved to take a step back losing her balance and toppling backwards. She braced herself for the fall, but none ever came. Where she should be sprawled there was nothing but empty air, instead, she was grasped tightly in Klaus's arms, being steadied as he surveyed her with an amused expression that, along with his sudden appearance left her breathless.

"Niklaus." She all but whispered. They were standing a mere foot apart, and as she spoke that one word his eyelids lowered a fraction of an inch, his gaze wandered over her face. Her heart thumped so loudly against her chest she was surprised he couldn't hear it's palpitations between then. She took a steadying breath, her eyelashes fluttering as she took a careful step back. Distancing herself from him, and the way that every neon of her body seemed to vibrate at his proximity.

He seemed reluctant to have her move away, but she had no intention of staying anywhere near him. Not until she figured out exactly what he was about. "What are you doing here?"

"It seems I keep missing you at home, with your many obligations we haven't gotten much time to become reacquainted. I thought that I may have better luck here."

Caroline let her eyes rummage around, hoping beyond hope that none of the children were hiding within earshot and she'd be able to get him to leave as quickly as he had manifested.

"Now isn't really the best time."

"I'd say." He said, he was referring to her early trip after seeing him. And if she had her wits about her properly she'd most likely be embarrassed for being so clod footed in his presence. What was he doing here? More importantly, how had he found her?

"Lady Forbes?" Came a small voice behind her. She closed her eyes tightly, willing the child to go away, before Niklaus discovered exactly what she was doing here and disapproved enough to forbid her to continue. When she had opened her eyes Klaus was peering around her, staring directly to the little girl with dark brown curls who was looking at them curiously.

April, the Madam of the house rushed into the hallway. "Amara, you aren't supposed to come out until you're found. That's the point of the game. Now come on or you're going to get cau…." The word died on her lips as April finally looked down the hallway to where Lord and Lady Mikaleson stood, both looking gob smacked for completely different reasons.

April stood. Eyes moving to Caroline for and explanation. With a nervous shake to her hands she gave the most forced polite smile she could manage. "Miss April Young I'd like to introduce you to my husband Lord Mikaelson." The words felt as artificial as they sounded, and she had to force herself not to cringe as they were delivered between the occupants of the room.

April's eyes widened in disbelief before she sank into a deep curtsy. "Lord Mikaelson, forgive me I didn't know you would be calling upon us today."

 _Neither did I,_ she thought wryly.

Amara was staring up at the exchange with quiet interest, and with a nodding prompt from April she too sunk into a wobbly curtsy. Pride welled up inside of Caroline as she gazed fondly at the girl.

"It was a fortunate accident that led me here today. I've long wanted to accompany my lady to the…."

He was leading, trying to politely lead the conversation to place where he understood the situation they were currently in. Caroline realized her blunder immediately, and quickly recovered to quietly let inform him. "It's an orphanage."

Niklaus's eyes widened slightly as he looked at the tiny girl before him with new eyes. Though the intent was to keep Amara from hearing the stark truths about her own situation, it was evident that she had. Within moments of Caroline's subtle whisper Amara piped up with her tiny voice. "No, it's a school."

He looked between all of them. His face impassive, as if he were calculating every iota of information before reacting. He was going to make her leave she knew it. Ladies donated money to orphanages, they organized elaborate charity events in order to raise money for orphanages so they could feel better about all of their wealth when they went to bed at night. Ladies, especially Countesses, didn't slum in the cheap side to teach orphans.

This was going south with startling velocity. Somehow, someway she had to get him out of here.

"A school?" He questioned, his eyes moving between Caroline and April.

It took only a moment for April to begin to gush. "Yes, we teach the children skills so that they can find suitable employment when they are old enough. We've had our oldest charge get a job as a governess with a respectable family just last week!"

Caroline closed her eyes. _Stop April, please stop._

"A governess." He repeated slowly, his eyes scanning the house for that remained eerily quiet around them. "And how many are there?"

It was Caroline who answered this time. "We have 13 girls and 9 boys."

Her face was tight, severe. As time passed the more she realized she didn't give a fig what Niklaus Mikaelson thought about this situation.

"So when you say skills…"

"We teach them to act like Lady's and Gentleman, so that they can acquire better positions then what someone with their circumstances might otherwise achieve."

It was silent for a long time. Distressingly silent. The meaning was clear. It was characteristic for the underbelly of London to be forgotten. Orphans were commonplace, but an ugly sore on the backside of the city that no one particular wanted to deal with. Orphans rarely lived to maturity, and if they did they were quickly sold off to work houses to basically become slaves. Those who escaped succumbed to a worse fate, falling into line with criminals and doxies. To end their awful life with the same way they entered it, with no hope and no prospects. Its a brutal life, a terrible life. He would never understand, most of the aristocracy didn't so blinded by their own fortune to notice the poverty of others. Caroline was about to suggest they speak outside when her husband opened his mouth and surprised them all.

"Perhaps I can help."

April squealed in delight. "Oh my Lord, how very generous of you."

Caroline was not so easily convinced the words spat out of her dull lead. "What?"

Both April and Niklaus looked at her, as if dumbfounded by her outburst. As she were the one in the situation that was out of place. "You said you had 9 boys. Who better to teach them to be gentleman, than a gentleman?"

"It's a wonderful idea. The boys are going to be ecstatic!" April took Amara's hand before turning to yell down the hallway. "Children, come on out. We have a surprise for you." And with that, they were rushing away the way Caroline had come.

Silence hung between them again. Emotions roiling away inside of her.

"Should we…" He pointed towards the doorway April had exited and motioned as if they should follow.

The words came out of her, quiet and full of emotion.

"Why are you doing this?"

It wasn't an accusation. It was an entreaty for the truth. To stop whatever façade that he was enacting.

His voice was solemn. Open in a way that she had never seen it. Not in the days they had first met, not in the day they were wed, or even the days since he'd been back. Without a doubt Caroline knew that it was the only time that he had been honest with her in the course of their marriage. "I don't know."

It wasn't much of an answer, but for some reason it satisfied her anxieties about the situation. In fact, her whole countenance was beginning to calm.

She moved to follow April into the living room when Klaus spoke again.

"I knew a man…. And… it's…"

He paused. Meeting her eyes for only a moment. Before moving to walk through the door in front of her. He stopped at the frame, his body perpendicular to her. She stared up at him as his mouth open and closed a few time, as if searching for the right thing to say. His eyes never met hers as he spoke, but that didn't stop Caroline from cataloging everything she saw there. There was a flash of pain as he spoke. "It's something he would have done."

And with that he was gone, following April's path towards the children and leaving Caroline to wonder exactly what had just happened.


	7. Chapter 7

It had been a reckless decision to follow her today. Just like when he had thoughtlessly ran his coach about town that evening hell-bent on finding that masquerade she was attending. At the time he had been so angry, so irritated he wanted nothing more than to find her, scold her soundly, then tell her what had transpired to change their circumstances and be done with it. He had let his pride get the best of him, causing him to resort to behavior he hadn't engaged in since his days at oxford. Today had been no different. Her continued attempts to keep him at arm's length had been needling at him since he had arrived at her townhome. The early morning rides, the day long trips to Bond Street, followed by the visit to one Miss Gilbert. It was clear as day what she was doing, she was sending him a very poignant message.

So as he sat downstairs eating breakfast and listening to Jeremy tell him what his wife's schedule consisted of, he had an idea. An idea equally as foolish as the one that sent him hopping around London in the middle of the night to find Caroline in the first place. If it hadn't of been for that stubborn decision none of this would have happened. If he had been calm, understanding even he would have simply returned home and requested a suitable time to call. He would have come across his wife on amicable terms, most likely in her demure sitting room where she would bow her head respectfully and would ask if he'd like her to call for tea. Terms that did not constitute her pelting him with icy barbs to try and douse the fire licking in his eyes.

If he had had the strength of character he aught to as a Lord of the realm, they might even border on some level of civility in their actions with each other. Not the barely masked horror her winsome face encased as she spun around the unfamiliar corner and directly into his arms. She could not have looked more terrified if she was being chased by some creature intent on relieving her of her blood and her life.

No, when Niklaus took into account the long lashes framing those cerulean blue eyes, those parted lips, that golden hair, and her expression contorted in the very definition of disdain he had to come to a realization. Caroline hated him. More than he had previously conjectured. The recognition of her scorn put a severe dimness to his mood. One that he could not buoy no matter how many high spirited young boys he spoke too. The dimness was foreign, and vexing and he found that he might have a contempt for the feeling equal to his wife's for him.

"Now, when addressing a gentleman, what should we do?" Niklaus said from his place at the front of the room. The boys stood before him, all assembled neatly into a line their chests puffed out proudly as each and every one of them tried to properly stand at attention the way the Earl had shown them only moments before. Not one of the boys looked older than eight years of age. He was impressed at that for the moniker of orphan they all seemed to be extremely well taken after. Their hair was clean and neatly clipped, there clothes, threadbare but freshly washed, and they all spoke with a level of refinement for their ages that would definitely aid their efforts in the future. It was not only the state of the boys that he found himself to be impressed with, it was the boys themselves. He had rarely seen a group of boys so eager to learn, and even more eager to cause mischief. It reminded him of himself in a way, of running around the country estate with Elijah, hiding as his father came barreling down after them his laugh echoing against the trees. Elijah who had not been born with a title, much like these children before him, but belonged in his family just the same.

"You bow to them." Said one of the shorter boys to the right.

Niklaus gave a slight inclination of the head to signal his acceptance of their answer. He watched with a smile tugged on his lips as each boy mimicked the action.

"And if you are unsure of the gentleman's level of peerage, how should you address them."

Another boy was quick to answer, "As "My Lord'."

"Very good." Niklaus said seriously acknowledging the boys correct answer by singling him out. The boy swelled with pride, an enormous smile breaking across his face.

"And only if theys address you first. Lords don't like being talked to by normal folk." The boy on the very left spoke this time, he was standing a little way from the others, his arms crossed over his chest in a blatant attempt to keep himself segregated from the others.

"Only if **they** address you. And it would be wise if you use the word people or population rather than folk. It seems less…." The word rang in his head but he couldn't find the ability to cross his lips. _Common._ Sure many of the boys wouldn't be old or wise enough to understand that ultimately he was referring to their situation, but he found himself grappling for another word none the less. "Odd."

"I don't give a fig what it sounds like." The boy said defiantly, slumping down on one leg rather then stand at attention as the other did. For the casual lean to his body, his chin was lifted in insubordination, as if he were going to take the much larger, much more imposing Niklaus on.

"You may not, but your future employer might." He argued, it was unlikely that the boy would cave to something as mediocre as the potential for employment at least a decade down the line. But he felt the need to implore with him none the less.

"I don't want to be employed by no high and mighty lord." The boy said his face contorted as if there were a foul smell wafting through the room.

"And why is that." Nik prompted.

"Cuz all they do it tell you what to do, and beats you when you don't do it. I rather clean chimneys I would."

Klaus blinked. His mind didn't want to gloss over how the boy could possibly come to think of something as horrible as the abuse he described, but he could only assume it was from some level of firsthand experience. That kind of devotion to hatred wasn't easily tamped out by some man with a title simply telling them what they should find acceptable. No, it was going to take more than just reason to change the child's mind….

"What's your name?"

"Johnathon. Johnathon Harker." He said, his chin lifting up with adolescent pride.

"Well Mr. Harker. If you are abject to the idea of working for someone from the peerage that is of course your choice. Chimney sweeps do make a small bit of coin, especially in the winter months. I must say though, with your current stature I'd think that you'll eventually grow to be taller than I."

A spark flashed behind Johnathon's eye. The one Klaus was waiting for.

"Do you think so?" he said slowly.

"Indeed it wouldn't surprise me one bit. And unfortunately gentleman with stature such as ours wouldn't fit in the normal fireplace, we'd get stuck." He paused for a moment as if to think. "I know. Since you're going to have such a large frame it would be prudent to consider a profession that would use it to its full advantage, I think you'd excel at horse work. Do you like horses?"

The boy didn't speak, but his face continued to soften while still maintaining his aloofness.

"Then perhaps I'll have to arrange to have you come out and visit my stables. I have a great many horses, and they do not get as much exercise as they aught. Perhaps you can learn something about their care and performance to see if a career would suit you."

The other boys looked on in awe at the exchange, and he found that disappointed faces surrounded him, all except for Johnathon, who looked like he was coming to terms with the idea of working with horses even if a fancy lord came with it. "All of you would be able to come out if it is alright with Miss April."

The boys erupted in glee, talking and clapping. It was like a bomb exploding within the tiny room and it took Niklaus a great deal of time to reign the excited children's energy back in.

"Now we have a little bit more to learn before the end of our lesson, or I'll find that I'll be in trouble next." The boys chuckled lightly but listened intently as he instructed them how to bow. "A squared set of shoulders is the key to any fluid bow. You want your frame to be strong. You'll find that any Lord, or Lady, will react favorably to someone who shows the correct degree of respect."

"Like Lady Caroline?"

Klaus's head popped, his eyes assessing the boy who stood at least a head shorter than the others. He stood with eager anticipation for the answer to his question and Klaus had to lament the boy's situation. It seems he was not the only one to carry a fancy for one Lady Caroline Mikealson.

"Especially Lady Caroline." He paused for a moment before clasping his hands behind his back. "Come now, let's see your bows."

* * *

She wasn't spying.

She honestly wasn't.

All right, she'd admit it. The minute Niklaus had arrived she'd been thrown completely out to the water, which wasn't an altogether unfamiliar sensation the last few days but it had been something that continually put her head in a tizzy.

What was he doing here?

What was he doing in there?

The time seemed to inch by since the boys had disappeared behind her husband into the sitting room and she had to stop herself nearly every quarter hour from popping her head in just to check. It took every possible logic for her to talk herself into staying where she was. Though the 'don't let it get to you Caroline's' and the 'you're being silly's' amounted to not. It was if a tick had burrowed its way under her skin and she was doing her very best not to give into temptation and scratch it. _You are stronger than this Caroline. You will not go into that room._

An hour had passed before her resolution finally snapped. It was nonsense. This was her place. She was the one who volunteered here, she was well within her rights to come and go as she please. If she wanted to see how the lesson was going she should just go in and check. It didn't have to have any ulterior motive.

So why was she at the side door of the parlor peeking through to watch little boys work their way up to wobbly bows? It was a question even she could not answer.

With her eye pressed to the open inch of doorway she was able to make out Klaus walking before them, giving instructions on modifications to make the bow seem more fluid.

"You are doing well, you'll need more practice but I think that the next lesson we could move on to tying a cravat properly."

It was Johnathon who piped up. "Now why would we want to do that, blokes look like they're running around with dish towels around there neck."

And that's when something extraordinary happened.

Nik laughed.

A full laugh that made him lose a decade instantly. A real laugh. One that in all of their marriage Caroline could honestly say she'd never seen. If she had… well…she'd have remembered that.

Her heart burned.

Her stomach flip flopped to the point where she thought she might get ill.

She couldn't stop staring at his smile. His incredible smile.

Realization struck and she pushed the door closed with no thought to how much noise it made.

No.

Her heart was thundering inside her chest, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving. She had been doing so well masking her baser emotions since Niklaus reemerged from wherever he was the past three years. Not once did she give him a single inclination that she still garnered some feelings for him. Yet here she was, lovesick and silly over a single smile. And the smile wasn't even intended in her direction.

She moved, walking down the hallway to where she had left the girls and their lesson.

This would not do.

She shook her head blindly.

This would not do at all. She did not love Niklaus Mikaelson any longer.

She'd just have to make herself believe that.

* * *

It was half five when Lord and Lady Mikaelson finally descended the steps of the orphanage towards the Muholland coach. Caroline had remained consistent with her previous behavior and other than a few well-meant interactions for the children, she did not speak to him. He had noticed however a newfound solemnity to her behavior. Though she spoke to him very little, it almost seemed that her attention was now focused more frequently upon him. It could be a mere figment of his imagination, a longing to overcome her walls that manifested the observation.

The footman were busy preparing the coach for the journey home, so in the intermittent wait to depart he might as well attempt to advance his campaign. "Now that our daily obligations are completed, perhaps you would do me the honor of joining me for dinner this evening."

His words didn't seem to surprise her, her eyelashes fluttering over those wide doe eyes before looking away her voice so devoid of feeling he could have asked her when her dog died. "Of course."

This wasn't going anywhere.

There had to be something he could do to break through her façade. Beneath her quiet, lackluster demear there was a passionate playful woman begging to be set free. He'd encountered her on occasion, and he found himself chasing that woman with reckless abandon.

The footman approached, beckoning them forward to enter the now open door. Niklaus often chose not to stand on precedence with any of his coach team and often times moved in and out of his convenience without the aid of the footman. With a lady present, the footman moved to his place next to the door to assist the lady in. He waved him away. It was Klaus that took Caroline's hand in his own, prepared to see her safely inside. It was also Klaus who realized he had made a terrible mistake.

She wore no gloves. Her skin felt like velvet against his own. He became aware of every moment passing with incredible acuteness. He wanted to stop her, to look into her eyes and to see if she too enjoyed the touch of his skin against hers, but she did not acknowledge him as she disappeared into the shadows of the coach.

 _Gods old boy, you need to get yourself together._ He took a steadying breath, instructing the coachmen to take them to Forbes house before climbing the rungs and disappearing after his wife. She was not looking at him, instead looking out at the small house they had just left behind. Caroline sat stoic, as if she'd be content to remain silent for the duration of the ride.

Klaus would give her no such luxury.

"The children definitely got the better of me today. I think next time they may even best me and send me into an early bed." He said jovially, causing Caroline to start in her seat as if just now realizing he was present.

Had she really forgotten he was there?

She gave him a tight smile. "Yes, they are quite a handful, but in the most wonderful way."

It was a momentary victory her response. So Klaus did what Klaus did best. He got his way. It was only that this time, he was going to have to do something other than his usual bout of demanding and then receiving. Caroline was delicate, lithe, wild, she needed to be coaxed, and Klaus found that for such a flower he was willing to be extraordinarily patient.

"I admire you're dedication to them." He said truthfully.

The words, his honesty, seemed to surprise her. "Thank you.' She paused for a moment, letting her words fill her before speaking. 'It is an easy thing to do, to forget about those you do not see. I do not find my time with them to be an inconvenience. Indeed I always find myself thinking better of the world when I leave them."

"I can see why." And he truly could, how long had it been since he'd thought about his childhood in more than just passing. Of remembering his lessons, of the trials of aging, of the bliss of carefree days not shadowed with the burden of responsibility. "It is noble."

"It's nothing of the sort." There eyes met for a intense moment before she continued. He counted her continuation of the conversation as a small check in his column, as the conversation of her passion for the children slowly began to open up the closely guarded walls she had erected around her. "The boys seemed quite taken with you. They will remember your kindness for a very long time."

"Hopefully at least until next week, cravat tying will be much more difficult to teach if they've already forgotten how to bow." He jested.

"You intend to return?" She spoke, the words falling from her lush lips laced with confusion.

"If you'll have me. I hope you don't mind, I've promised the boys an excursion to our stables and I'll be quite unpopular if I do not follow through."

The first genuine smile he'd seen since the door of the orphanage closed behind him twitched onto her lips. It was incredible what the warmth of her eyes could do in so little time.

"The girls will be green with envy."

Niklaus gave her a mischievous smile of his own, intent on seeing her amused expression continue to grow. "Now we can't have that." He tutted good naturedly. "I suppose the stables would be suitable for the ladies. At least to visit. Perhaps there's something else they could do while the boys chase the poor animals into an early grave." His attempts to lighten the mood between them had the desired affect, he found her warming, blossoming into the humor like a rose.

"They are not that bad." She admonished. Niklaus could nearly marvel at what an introduction to humor could do for her disposition, it was an entirely different coach then he had entered earlier. "And I'll have you know the little girls are possibly ten times more destructive than the boys ever thought of being."

"Girls always are."

She scoffed, the noise ending with an amused laugh. "How would you know, you can hardly call yourself an expert on children from being in their company for one day."

"No, but I can simply imagine you as a child. I'm sure you were a monster."

She scoffed again, red staining her cheeks. "I was not!"

He laughed shuffling himself forward a few inches to balance his weight onto his knees. Watching the way her blush danced across her skin, and the way she deflected his taunts in the most charmingly intoxicating way. "I don't believe you."

Her shoulders squared, her chin lifting to him as she spoke with the most winsome smirk on her lips. "I will have you know that I was a perfectly well behaved child." They stared at each other, a battle of wills as Caroline dared him to disagree with her statement and Klaus's disbelieving features indicated his lack of trust in her tale. Moments passed as they battled, and it was with a great deal of personal pleasure when she rolled her eyes and impishly consented, "Well... most of the time."

"Now that I can believe. I'm sure it was a sight."

She rolled her eyes again, this time in exasperation.

"Do you have any plans for the morrow? Perhaps in the nature of childhood adventure you'd allow me to accompany you." Her eyes narrowed, surveying him behind her crossed arms.

"You seem to know as much about my plans as I do. Why don't you tell me?" It seemed she'd surmised the reasoning behind his appearance at the orphanage today. In any other situation, he might have the good manners to seem sheepish.

He was not. "You've found me out."

"I suppose I'll have to have a word with my staff then. I'd thought they would have lasted longer before divulging my secrets to you."

"Secrets are they?" Their eyes met for a heavy exchange. Unlike what he had previously thought, there was no hatred behind her eyes. If he wasn't completely wrong, he'd say that she held a great deal of interest there. The thought warmed him, surging through his blood. His eyes lightly ran down her face and back. "In your staff's defense, they did not divulge anything to me, but my footman."

"Ahhh. And he just happened to mention my daily schedule in passing?"

"No, I asked him for it." He said matter-of-factly.

Her laugh this time was one of disbelief. "And why would you do something like that?"

The answer was intended to be playful, teasing. To continue their light hearted banter and the new found cordiality. "Is it wrong for a husband to inquire after his wife?"

It was only when Caroline deflated did he truly realize what he had been witnessing. Slowly, like the air leaving a balloon did Niklaus watch the light fade from Caroline's personage. The carriage became dim in the middle of the day as the hard look she had kept set on her features for most of the day returned and the stunning light of her happiness disappears. It was like losing the warmth of the sun on ones skin, the loss of her smile, and he longed to see it returned.

"Caroline?" He cajoled lightly. Her eyes glassed over as she moved to stare out the window of the coach. All joking ended the longer her watched her, watched the mirade of emotions playing across her face.

This time when he spoke her name, it was not in jest. "Caroline." She pulled her gaze back to his, her eyes once more closed off from his inspection. Her shoulder setting as if to guard herself against him. "Where did you just go?" It came out in a whisper, a small intimate plea for her to continue her unguarded honesty with him.

The frigid cut to her voice could have run him clean through. "Apologies, I dislike this coach a great deal."

Confusion arched through him as his vision bounced around the lush interior.

"This coach is one of the finest in England? It's nicer than Prinny's."

She did not answer him, she would not.

And Niklaus, as fool as he was was smart enough not enquire further.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Marriage Bed**

* * *

When the carriage arrived in front of her father's townhome she had never been so relieved in her life. The interior had been quiet for some time, and even though Niklaus had attempted to fill the silence with conversation, Caroline's curt replies had overturned his endeavors. Caroline's untimely revelation had but a damper on what had been a lovely day. She was furious with herself. How easily she had fallen into his playful jesting. When only hours before she had sternly warned herself against opening her heart to him, she sat across the carriage from him remarking on her actions as a child as if she had never considered being cautious.

It had been diverting, and it may had been only in Caroline's mind but it had almost seemed as if it were bordering on flirtatious. Now that she had a moment away from him to think about it, she was almost certain he had been flirting with her. The way his handsome face carried his incorrigible grin as he teased her, his unfathomable eyes dancing as the dimple in his left cheek lured her into his trap. She sat across from a man that made her heart flutter and ache in tandem.

Was this really her life anymore?

There sat her husband. Her handsome, perfect, heartbreaking husband that she had pined for smiling at her in a way she only imagined in her most secret of dreams. With affection, with respect, with intrigue. A man that had been larger than life all those years ago when they had exchanged their vows. What did Caroline bring to him other than herself? Niklaus had had the greater title, the wealth, the sterling reputation as a gentleman. Back then when they had first met he was quiet, and reserved, and breathtakingly beautiful. This man was nothing like the husband she had known so long ago. His presence was still equally as imposing, but he was different. There was a warmth there she had never seen before. A fleetingly displayed evidence of his youth woven into him that she had never had the opportunity to witness. She had spent the last two years out of her three year union preparing herself for how she would act when, IF, Niklaus ever returned. But she had made a terrible error in her preparation. She had practiced for the old Niklaus, the one who left her one day after they became husband and wife. The one who had stiffly kissed her lips that day. Now as he sat before her, his lips tugged into a seductive smirk, she could not recall if it had really been the same man at all. His lips did not look capable of being hard. Only soft, and undeniably appealing…

By all rights this new playful side to her husband's character should not unsettle her so. In fact it should have been something she learned in the inception of their courtship.

And that's when it hit her.

She deserved this man three years ago.

Three years ago when he pushed a ring onto her left hand, exchanged vows with her and then rounded her into that very carriage. Did he know then? As he looked at her as she sat in the very spot she sat now what he was going to do that next morning. It was almost as if she had been transported back into time, as her fumbling hands fisted in her skirts and she nervously spoke to him in a cheery voice to break the suffocating tension.

"I've never been to the Mikealson Great house. Are the grounds as extensive as they say?" He barely tore his eyes from the countryside bobbing along outside of the thick windows.

"I suppose." The words were dull, unfeeling.

"I'm sure you would not wish to speak grandiosely about your own property. But I'll have you know that the gardens at your families' estate is the topic of much sitting room conversation. They say the roses are the most beautiful in all of England."

He didn't answer her that time, just stared at the window as if she were invisible. The entire carriage ride had continued much the same way. At that moment she would have given anything to know what he had been thinking. Paid any price to know exactly the right thing to say. The last time she had been in this carriage she had little time to think of where she was. Arguing with Niklaus had proven vexing, annoying, distracting enough for her not to notice.

She noticed now. The first time Caroline Mikaelson had been inside this carriage is when he was taking her to the Great house to abandon her.

The second time Caroline Mikaelson had been inside this carriage was when he decided that the abandonment had lasted long enough.

Now they sat across from each other smiling like nothing had ever happened. Like there wasn't a vast and painful history between them.

"I dislike this coach a great deal."

They were words she had never meant more. How different things would have been if he had simply tried the first time around. It made her deeply melancholy.

He had told her that he was attempting to make amends for how their marriage had functioned before now. Caroline was loathe to admit it, but he was keeping good on his word. He was trying. His behavior with the children that day had been exceptional. To have engage to such a degree with a group of individuals some would find distasteful had touched her deeply. Caroline loved those children and Niklaus may have followed her for his own purposes, but he had stayed for hers.

Klaus did not press her for an explanation on her statement, and she was grateful for that. When he gingerly helped her step down from the carriage she was even more so. The cool air against her skin felt soothing, and had she bothered to bring a shawl with her that morning, she would have insisted on a taking a solitary walk in the gardens to improve her constitution. It was not fair to him to be so quiet and solemn without the courage to tell him why. She'd have to adopt her familiar air of pleasant civility with him that she hadn't quite perfected yet.

"Would you like to change before dinner?" The inquiry was polite and an utter about face from where her thoughts had been leading her. She looked down at her garments. On days such as this she never dressed with great circumstance, she was at an orphanage after all, and it was hard to keep ones skirts perfectly starched when you're chasing after children. She probably looked like a mess in her plain brown skirt without a single petticoat beneath it and unadorned blue button up shirt without an ounce of lace.

She cringed at the implication. "I had better."

"I do not mind. If you would like to eat as you are then we can simply instruct them to serve us now rather than later."

He was being polite. No, as wonderful as the idea of seating herself down in her dining room without the restrictive laces of an evening gown, those days were no longer. She had a duty after all, now that her husband was in residence.

"It's necessary for me to change. It isn't appropriate for us to dine together as I'm currently dressed."

He looked confused, genuinely confused, and the expression did wonders for his adorability. "Why ever not?"

Was he really asking her such a thing? He knew perfectly well why not.

"Because…. It's not done. My position as Countess requires me to show a level of decorum in our behavior, even at home. If I'm to dine formally I must dress accordingly. Especially with your additional presence. It's… it's not done and I look well… I am less than my best."

He raised one eyebrow at her as his gaze assessed her garments, lingering on places that had ought to make her blush.

"Nonsense. I see nothing wrong with your attire. Though I don't doubt you could manage to make a potato sack look lovely. If you'd be more comfortable in what you are wearing, why not dine in it. It's only me."

His eyes delved into hers, impeaching her to relent. The echo of his words send a flush of satisfaction through her and she could feel the tips of her ears burning with heat. She broke his gaze raking her clammy palms against the practical fabric of her skirts.

"Thank you, but I must insist."

Yes, she must insist on standing upon the precedence. She must insist upon the expectations their titles gave them. It was much easier to have dinner with the Earl of Muholland then it was with Niklaus. He led her inside step by step her hand tucked into the crook of his elbow. His mouth tightened as if he wanted to argue further, but when he spoke no barbed words laced artfully with satire assaulted her. "As you wish."

With quiet purpose he led her to foot of her stairwell, she opted with a breezy cordial tone. "I shan't take long I assure you My Lord." He seemed surprised by her formality, as well as with the deep curtsy she gave him.

With a tight smile he bowed in equal measure.

"Of course my lady."

It took her longer than she had anticipated to shake off the welling feeling of disappointment as she turned and climbed the stairs towards her chambers. It should not have affected her in the slightest, he acted with absolute civil formality.

Formality is what she anticipated would help her survive this perplexing situation.

She found she did not have the taste for it.

* * *

Niklaus was trying desperately to regroup from his current position. As of right now, he was no where near in Caroline's favor. And he had no blasted idea as to why that was. He thought, at least for a moment that they had reached an unspoken accord. They had spent much of the day at the orphanage together, and his enthusiasm at helping had not been feigned. For a moment she had been as vibrant as the sun, a Lily blooming under the warmth of the rays, an openness that was so intoxicating it could easily lead a man to his death without realization as to why.

Then something had happened. She had closed herself so tightly that he was certain he could feel the frost in the air between them. What in the world had caused her to change so dramatically in so short of time?

When he had deposited her upon the stairway to the upper floor her formal exit had left an acrid taste in his mouth. If he was ever called My Lord again it would be too soon. Not after hearing his name dripped so beautifully from the petals of her lips. He had never been particularly fond of his name, thinking it both too common and too strange all in the same way. He had preferred those close to him to call him Klaus, rather than his full moniker. This had been the case for nearly the entirety of his life, his mates at Oxford would call him as such, and the women in which he'd had previous assignations with did as he requested. Never before had his name sounded quite so appealing, so intriguing. The itch to hear her say his name festered in the back of his mind, like the shrill coo of a dove chirping only to be appeased with that one word in her lilting voice.

He knew after all, he knew that she would not open herself to him in the matter of hours since their reconciliation. It would take time, and from her behavior only minutes before apparently that would be a great deal of it.

Rustling came from the stairs behind him and he turned automatically at the sound. Caroline was descending towards him in an evening gown of cornflower blue. Delicate beading emphasized her waist and neckline and he felt himself lose his breath as he watched her navigate her way down the steps. He did not moved as her feet met the landing and her gaze met his own. The dress seemed to make the blue in her eyes infinitely brighter and he was hard pressed to look away.

He took a deep breath.

"You look stunning." With the low light of the lamps lighting the shadowed entry hall, he couldn't be certain, but the most fetching blush rose on her cheekbones. Satisfaction welled within him as her lashes fluttered down.

"Thank you."

With a sweep of his hand he motioned toward the open dining room doors. "Shall we?" She nodded her head once, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm and gliding into the room next to him. In the dark glass pane window on the other side of the room he caught their reflection and was once again struck by her beauty.

Leave it to him to be married to the most gorgeous woman in all of England and have absolutely no idea.

He deposited her at her chair, before moving to the head of the table to take his own. The servants came out almost immediately, filling the heaving crystal tumbler with not nearly enough port to satisfy him sudden meal progressed as they always do. Food was laid, plates filled, drinks requested. Caroline had a quite grace about her that could easily outshine the loudest of outburst, and the servants adored her. It was visible on every one of their faces as they placed the food before her. Klaus watched her, silently as she ate. Her slight hand spearing one single carrot and bringing it up to disappear delicately between her lips.

It had been a good deal of time before her eyes met his and a perplexed v settled itself between her eyebrows. "You're not eating is there something wrong?" No, he hadn't been eating had he? His fork lay discarded on the heavy linen napkins, his plate nearly untouched.

"Perhaps you should tell me." The words were calm. Neither accusatory nor harsh. The meaning behind them was clear. He did not push her before, but perhaps he would now.

"Thank you for allowing me to intrude on your day. I have not enjoyed myself that much in quite some time. I hope…" He was not being false with his words, in all reality he was being more honest than he had been in quite some time. "I hope that if there is anything I have done that made you uncomfortable that you would not hesitate to tell me. It was not my intention."

The long tapers sitting between them flickered, the flames dancing just as much as the two people seated across from each other.

"Thank you."

Not enough. He wanted more.

"Is that all?"

"Is there something else you require?"

"I would not be opposed to an explanation."

She humphed, her eyes rolling in that stubborn way that sent jolts of electricity through him. He fought the urge to grin. "I take it that it's too much to ask for?"

"It is…." She stopped, her eyes closing and a heavy breath pouring from her. She was steadying herself. Refusing to take his bait. "It is a question I do not feel capable of answering at this time."

"Why?"

Her exasperation could only be held so long. "I shouldn't have to explain myself. I would prefer not to answer. That is all."

"I thought we were having fun."

"We were."

"Then why did you shut down so? What happened? One minute you were laughing and the next it was like I was with a completely different woman."

"Well that's something you should be familiar with." If the barb was meant to hit, it had.

Silence fell between them.

A quiet fury rose within him and he stomped it down.

Except that he couldn't. Not this time.

"I see." The words came out like fire. Spitting so forcefully he was surprised she could not feel there impact. He pushed away from the table, rising with every intent of heading directly for the study and drinking enough port to kill many a lesser man.

No, he was not furious because she had spoken out of turn. Of a topic so widely acknowledged as taboo by women all over London. Of a pastime enjoyed by husbands all over England without the thought of repercussions from their wives. He wasn't mad that she had spoken back to him, had challenged him for the thousandth time.

He was mad because she had been right.

He was just passing her when she stopped him. One uttered guilty word that froze him like magic. "Niklaus…"

His name muttered in her honey'd voice, it was enough to make him wait to hear whatever it was she had to say, whether it assuaged his guilt or not. He did not look at her, his teeth clenched so tightly he could feel the pressure resonating through his jaw.

"That was unnecessary I apologize."

Still he did not speak.

It was minutes later before she spoke again.

"I was….. The memory of my first ride in your carriage came to my mind and it affected me a great deal."

"I see."

And this time he really did see. The first ride in his carriage had been after their wedding. Niklaus had shouldered a hangover so massive he was surprised he could stand upright. He could remember Caroline's animated voice bombarding him with questions and statements only to be rewarded with curt one word answers. Of course it was a particularly distasteful memory for her.

If he had known then what he knew now.

Did he want his wife in his bed?

Yes.

Or the floor, or the table, or anywhere else he could make love to her. He wanted to hear his name being sobbed from between her torturous lips. Her naked body writhing against him as he took her from behind. Her golden hair wrapped around his fists as her tight cunt pulsed around his cock. He wanted to paint the way the early morning sunlight kissed her naked body with his tongue. He wanted to fucking devour her.

He had since the moment he'd seen her again.

But it was more than that.

He wanted her warmth. The way she'd been so free with her affection when she'd teased him.

He wanted her smile. The one that she gave to every single one of those children in the orphanage but not to him.

And he bloody well wanted her trust.

He halted, trying to think of what he was going to say, what he could say. "I…. this may be unsuitably out of place but…. I'm sorry for the way you were treated that day. You did not deserve the things that were—The things that I have done to you."

He stood taller, extending himself to his very full height before turning to stare directly into her eyes.

"I know that I have exposed that I intend to mend the relationship between us and that cannot properly happen unless I do something that I never do. For anyone."

She waited. Her eyes swimming in the glow of the candlelight.

"I apologize. Caroline. For everything."

And with that he walked out of the door of the dining hall hell bent on leaving his guilt and his sobriety behind him.

She did not stop him.

He did not blame her.

It would take a dunce to have been married to the most beautiful woman in England for nearly three years without knowing it. Klaus had.

He must be the simplest man in the country, because he also didn't know that he'd been married to the most beautiful woman in England and that when he had married her, she'd been in love with him.

* * *

 **A/n: A huge shoutout to the lovely ANON on Tumblr who helped me waste my day at work. You don't have to be an anon anon. I will love you regardless! Thanks so much for requesting a new chapter of TMB. I hope you enjoyed it. I have a good idea of what will be happening for the next chapter so hopefully I can get it out rather soon. Leave reviews please. I love them so much I just about die when I get one 3**


	9. Chapter 9

Elena had taken ill that morning with a headache. Upon arrival to Dr. Gilbert's home, and being ushered inside by the staff and allowed to see her friend it was clear that she would be unable to accompany Caroline that day to the special presentation the historical society was hosting. After ensuring her friends comfort and inquiring quite insistently if there was anything she could bring back to ease her friends discomposure, she climbed back into her father's carriage and instructed her driver to carry on to the museum as planned.

Caroline had to admit that the disappointment of not being accompanied by Elena's soothing disposition was palpable. Now that she sat bobbing to the sway of the carriage wheels against cobbled streets undeniably alone she could hardly muster up the motivation to simulate excitement for what lay before her. The historical society was at the best of times incredibly dull, but with the arrival of Sir Stephen Gray's exhibit on the biological effect of honeybees during plant gestation it was certain to be a feat in itself if she managed to remain upright through the entirety. She had joined the historical society shortly after arriving in London, and had done so solely because it was a respectable organization that believed in furthering the preservation of England's past. It was a noble pursuit, so when Lady Jenna Sommers had approached her with the prospect of contributing to such a cause she had eagerly, and perhaps naively jumped aboard. Elena usually accompanied her, though not being a member herself she was always happy to alleviate some of the burden and make Caroline's time at the museum not seem so utterly tedious.

Today she would simply have endure the presentation without her friend for distraction. It was something she had not had to do in some time and she was hardly looking forward too it. But, as the carriage trundled along London streets Caroline recognized that she had two options. No one in the Historical Society would cast a wayward eye her way if she decided to forgo the engagement and return to her home. Indeed, out of many of the members in the society she was one of the affiliates whose attendance bordered on religious. However she was perfectly aware that if she sent a note claiming her own head ailment she would have to return home, and there she would risk the potential of running into her husband.

She'd rather be bored to tears.

It was a far more appealing prospect.

As mercurial as her husband was, she did not want to chance running into him unduly. Unlike she had since Niklaus had taken up residence in the masters quarters, she had not left the house this morning till nearly the tenth hour, and was relieved to hear that Bonnie had seen neither hide nor hair from him since the sun rose. According to Jeremy, Niklaus's footman, Bonnie said with a flirtatious smirk on her lips that hinted at exactly how she gleaned such information, he had been up nearly half the night drowning himself in brandy.

What Niklaus would she meet today? The indifferent, the flirtatious, the apologetic?

For now Caroline was simply content to sit in a long winded meeting about the growth cycle of plants.

The carriage came to a shocking halt nearly throwing her clean off of her seat, and it took her a few moments of blinking and her brows furrowed in confusion before she realized why they had come to such a stop so suddenly. They had arrived at the museum, but her driver had overshot the entrance by a fraction in his zeal to reach their destination. She craned her head to see the entrance nearly 10 meters back. She humphed. "Jesse what on earth is going on?" she said loudly enough that he would be able to hear it, gathering her shawl around herself she moved near to the door preparing to exit the steps once it was opened for her. It was unlike him to drive so carelessly, and it was also unlike him to take so long to prepare the stairs for her exit.

She took a calming breath to steady her constitution. It was not Jesse she was irritated at, and it would be cruel to direct her irritation upon her loyal driver. The door finally opened and she climbed down from the stairs with his assistance.

He seemed flustered, and she assumed that he was embarrassed for his handling of the horses before. She gave him a reassuring smile as he spoke. "I'm sorry my Lady… I didn't mean…."

"It's alright Jesse. No harm done. I shall be a few hours, would it be possible for you to drive to the market while I am inside and purchase some additional flour for the house. It seems we have used our stock prematurely."

Jesse bowed deeply. "Of course my lady. And would you like me to deliver it to the house before I return to collect you?"

She moved past him towards the steps to the museum, "that won't be necessary. I can ride with the flour, there is no point of you making additional trips when you need not." The man's cheeks didn't seem to lose their embarrassed flush, and Caroline felt a wave of concern wash through her. Hopefully with the additional task afforded to him he'll be able to shake off his obvious embarrassment, it was an accident after all.

Right now, her presence was probably just causing him undue discomfort. She turned and moved towards the museums entrance where the doors were parted for her by two high chinned footmen adorned in brilliant red livery.

Her shoes clacked against the marble floor as she moved with purpose down the entry hallway towards the presentation room. The sooner she arrived, the sooner she'd be able to leave.

* * *

The lecture was entirely more tiresome then she had feared. The spacious room was set for nearing 100 people, and possibly thirty (if not less) decided to attend the event. Caroline had taken a seat a modest distance away from the front of the room, not quite in the very back, but not near the front where the more avid attendee's sat perched eager for knowledge. She was certain that she had very nearly fallen asleep on more than one occasion, and the continued heaviness of her eyelids made it all the more likely that she'd fall asleep again. Had the orator been a bit more lively she'd be able to stay more alert during the presentation, but with the dull monotone droning of the portly man standing at the head of the room coupled with the flat gray of the sky outside she'd all but fallen to the floor in slumber.

One hour bled into the next, and just when Caroline thought that the cessation was before her and that she'd made it through despite her eyelids protest, she was dealt a disappointing blow. She perked up as the chalk board was wiped clean by the short gentleman who had to stretch to reach the very top as he continued on in that droning voice of his.

"Now we'll break shortly for an intermission and when you return we'll continue with the second half of the presentation."

Second half? They'd already been here for nearly two and a half hours and she'd barely survived. How was she going to survive another two without making an absolute fool of herself in front of her peers? She had tried after all, perhaps it would be better if she…

"Now that was riveting." Came a voice from directly behind her.

Caroline's body nearly hit the ceiling she jumped so violently. She whirled around her eyes clashing hard with her husbands as her chest heaved the evidence of her fright. She placed her hand directly over her racing heart trying desperately to slow its galloping gait as she searched for something to say.

"Niklaus." She said in a loud whisper. "What in the world are you doing here?"

He gave her that careless grin that despite it being several days since their reconciliation she still had not become accustomed too. Deep down there was a niggling feeling that despite prolonged exposure to her husband, she would never fully get used to him being around. His smile alone was seemed to do distressing things to her insides.

"From what I could gather, watching you try and stay awake."

Her cheeks flushed as she looked around at the other attendees, many had left their seats and gone to the back of the room where refreshments were being served. Others were mingling around the orator asking the gentleman questions of some nature. None however were close enough to her that she could attempt to make conversation to save her embarrassment.

"I was not." She said hotly.

"Really?" He said, amusement lacing his tone. There was something about the teasing nature of his countenance that made him infinitely more attractive in that moment than the devil already was. The mischievous glitter to his eyes, the full lushness of his lips drawn into that knowing smirk, the sharp angular line of his cheekbones that made him look both dangerous and safe all in the same moment. He was deadly like this, and Caroline's chest continued to heave, though her fright had nothing to do with it.

"Yes, Really." She affirmed, feeling the flush of her cheeks heighten.

He moved forward till he was sitting on the very edge of his seat, his body filling the distance between them in lazy abandon. His hand moved up, plucking an errant curl from the back of her habit and pulling it between them polishing the stand as if it were made of gold.

"I find that difficult to believe. These curls of yours were bobbing off without your consent is that it?"

His gaze moved from the blonde curl in his hand back to her own blinking lashes. The air around them vibrated with electricity. The room seemed to rise more than dozen degrees in temperature. She forced herself to look away, from his penetrating gaze and his knowing smile that was too close to her own even if was nearly a foot away. She swatted the curl from his hand.

"How long have you been here?" She demanded. He appeared unfazed by her tone, his own keeping that playful lightness that was breaking her.

"The entire time you have."

"Did you follow me here?" She asked, knowing without a doubt that he had.

He scoffed, as if the very idea was laughable. "Of course not. I drove you here."

"You WHAT?"

Her voice came out much louder than she had anticipated, causing several people around the room to turn and look at the couple still seated.

"I'd keep my voice down if I were you." He quipped.

Aggravation flared within her like flames through dry grass. With a quick glance around to verify that the others had returned to their own conversations she leaned forward lowering her voice back to its hard whisper.

"What do you mean you drove me here? Jesse drove me here this morning. In fact…" Her mind returned to Jesse's less than graceful arrival this morning. Her mouth opened as if to continue and hung there as reality washed over her. "How…"

"I may have been slightly still inebriated when I made the decision. But I did have a frightfully good time."

Her gloved hand came up to massage the bridge between her eyes. "Gods. Niklaus."

Even with her eyes cast to the floor and her hand blocking her line of sight. The smile he gave her was magnetic. "Cursing now are you? You really had better keep your voice down or you'll end up tossed out of the ton before you know it."

"You could have killed yourself!"

"Everything was perfectly in hand."

"And me for that matter!" She turned crossing her arms tightly over her chest and pursing her lips in irritation. Of all the fool hardy, ridiculous, insane things for a man to do.

"Think of it as an adventure." Adventure? Was death really an adventure for him?

"An adventure I didn't know I was on."

"Ahhh," He said in mock despair. "Now you're cross with me."

"Cross would be an understatement." She held steady in her resolution that she would not look back at him, and this apparently delighted the child that was her husband.

"Caroline…." He cajoled. His lips danced over her name like a caress, flesh puckered on the skin of her arms and the hairs on the nape of her neck stood at attention. "Don't you want to know why I risked my life to be here this morning?"

She did, Lord above she did.

A huff escaped her before she turned back to him once more. "Why are you here?"

"I have a surprise for you."

The words were spoken like a promise, one that made her immediately want to throw up her hands and move as far away from him as she could get. The kind of promise the devil makes you before you forfeight your soul for all eternity.

"What is it?"

"Now if I tell you that. It wouldn't be a surprise."

"And if I'm not particularly fond of surprises."

"Come now Caroline where's your sense of adventure?" The moment paused between them, heavy with the tension raging between the two, overflowing from the night before. His eyes were searching, imploring her to relent. Wasn't this her argument to herself over the years when she though back to her absent husband? When she foolishly and unfairly compared herself to Elena who seemed like a glittering jewel whose brilliance outshined her own. Who would chose plain old Caroline?

She did.

She was never plain. She was never uninteresting. And if the fact that she'd once attended a masquerade at the infamous Lothario's Silas's house was indication, she was never unadventurous. Caroline didn't need to prove anything to anyone. And she was delighted to release, that she didn't even have to prove anything to herself. She turned, with every expectation of telling Niklaus exactly where he could put his surprise, before he spoke "It's either stay here and endure the second half of this -" he stared at the front of the room perplexed at the adequate word to describe it. "-Invigorating discussion. Or come with me."

Her face fell. Inwardly war raged. Could she survive the second half of this dreadful discussion? In the end the prospect of doing anything would be better than having to endure more time in her chair, fighting to stay awake. Even if it ended up being a surprise from a possibly still inebriated man that she had recently become reunited with.

If she knew anything from her life. Whatever he had planned, she could handle it.

"Alright, but we must make haste, they're just about to begin."

* * *

He had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He was daft, barmy, completely gone round the bend. If anyone, ANYONE had suggested that any woman would make him completely forgo his character to such a degree simply to gain their favor he'd have challenged him. On the spot, call your seconds, we're meeting at dawn challenged them.

Yet here he was.

Niklaus Mikaelson, the Earl of Muholland hated waiting.

Unless of course he was waiting for the Countess of Muholland.

Niklaus Mikaelson, the Earl of Muholland did not apologize.

Unless of course he recognized that he had done a grievous injustice to a woman who had been all but in love with him at the time of their marriage and now he found himself explanatorily fascinated with.

Niklaus Mikaelson did not display weakness.

Unless of course, he'd followed his wife to an orphanage to discover that she had a beautiful caring nature, and for some reason that brought out a level of humanity in him that he had not felt in years.

He was used to getting his way. Used to having his instructions followed.

He was used to having complete, utter, inarguable control of himself and everything around him. Yet the moment he saw Caroline across that crowded ballroom all pretenses of control evaporated. Instead he was spiraling out of control, out of character like a ship being tossed at sea. The worst part of all of it, is the more he thought on it. The more he realized he didn't at all mind.

The emptiness that had weighed heavy on him since his father's death was nowhere to be found. Unlike he had for years he no longer felt the burden of his station. The morose dull outlook on life where it had to be handled rather than lived.

Here he was, riding next to his wife in her father's carriage because a massive sack of flour was riding on the bench across from them. They were close, closer then they may have ever been even on the mockery that was there wedding night. His leg brushed against hers in the carriage as they swayed their way towards their secret destination. Caroline was looking steadfastly out the window, watching the houses roll by as, he was sure, she was trying to deduce where he was taking her. He thrilled at having her so close, so close that it would take a small slide of his hand to gather her in his arms.

She may think that her attempts at stalling their conversation by staring out the window was working, but in all reality it was doing quite the opposite. From his time earlier that morning disregarding whatever that ponce was saying about flowers, he'd made quite a thorough inspection of his wife. Of the set of his wife's shoulder, the elasticity of that curl bobbing before him, the fine wisps of hair gathered at the back of her neck. It was the curl that captured his attention first, would it be as soft as it looked? Would it smell like her? Like honeysuckle and violets on a summer's day. Then as the innocence of his inspection faded away it became darker. How lovely would her hair look unbound, he could only imagine that it would shine golden even in the dark. Her beautiful curls bouncing across the bare porcelain white of her skin.

He was content to sit for two hours fantasizing about the naked curve of her waist. Of discovering if her backside was as winsome as her gowns hinted as they swirled around her legs. Of tasting the dimples directly above her buttocks. His mouth devouring her pleasure as it escaped her in little gasps. It was a treacherous game that made for an uncomfortable but oh so enjoyable respite. Now as she sat next to him, curls once more dancing directly before him, taunting him he couldn't help but to once more relend. He fixated on the gorgeous flesh of her neck and how desperately he wanted to close the space between them and cover it with his mouth. He'd be gentle - at first. Teasing, tasting. Discovering the luscious skin and exactly where would bring her enough carnality that she'd let out a desperate moan. Would it be where her neck meets her shoulder? Or would it be along the flesh of her earlobes? He'd use his teeth, letting the blunt edges rake across the sensitive flesh until he bit down. The thought of marking her drove him nearly insane with desire.

And still that curl bounced between them.

It was more than he could bear.

He snagged it between his fingers bringing it towards him. Watching as it stretched taunt between his fingertips.

She was turning before he even realized it.

Caroline's blue unimpressed gaze met his as lightly her gloved hand slapped at his own. The curl sprang free, "Stop it, Niklaus."

"You know, I quite fancy the way you say my name."

A lovely flush stained her cheeks as her lashes fluttered. Her gaze shifted across the carriage to the worn upholstery of the opposite seat and its lone occupant the sack of flour.

"Where are you taking me?"

He laughed, bringing his right elbow up to rest on the back of the seat, his thumb stroking his lower lip as he simply catalogued every nuance of her every reaction.

"That would ruin the surprise."

"I do not like surprises." Her words came out in almost a pout, and it was impossible to keep the smile from breaking across his face. Her ire, even when bordering on childish was frightfully endearing.

"And yet, you'll receive one none the less."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "You've already gotten your way. You wanted me to accompany you and here I am. What use is keeping your intentions clandestine when you've already achieved your purpose?"

"Perhaps I'd like to see your face upon arrival."

She snorted in a way he was certain would send tongues wagging and on any other female he'd find repulsive. He found himself grinning once more from ear to ear. "I certainly doubt that."

"Ahhhh," he tutted lightly, his hand moving the short distance from his lips to his chin. "I suppose since you prefer, I could tell you where we are going."

"I do."

He let his hand drop, making sure that her eyes were sealed directly upon his own.

"How do you feels about gaming hells?"

Her eyes brightened but her face remained impassive. "Niklaus we couldn't." She admonished.

"Says who?"

She sputtered, letting her eyes skirt around the edge of the carriage as if to assure herself that there weren't other occupants overhearing their conversation.

"The entire Ton is who!"

He moved forward, shifting his position so his body faced perpendicular to his own.

"Not necessarily. The private side of white's has many female members. Only the most distinguished members of the peerage are allowed inside and they ensure complete anonymity."

She scoffed, the color flooding her cheeks as she continued. "We both know that is a lie. It's scandalous."

"And what of a little scandal? Come on, take a chance Caroline. I dare you."

She didn't say anything, as her flushed cheeks and her teeth tortured her bottom lip in consideration. For a moment he almost thought she was going to refuse and instruct Jesse to turn around and to take her home.

Surprising them both, she lowered her lashes and nodded. Just once, if he had blinked he might have missed it.

The grin he gave her in response was practically splitting his face to pieces, and barely, he was able to see that her mouth was tugged into the smallest of smiles as well.

* * *

 **A/N: This may be a long author's note because I'm like wicked blown away by the response from the last chapter.**

 **I can't even. You guys totally blew my mind especially those who've been following this story for a while I honestly have to give some shout outs because you deserve it.**

 **honestgrins: I'm so glad we're now friends. This chapter is for you, even if it's two days late.**

 **gooddame: You've literally reviewed every chapter of probably everything I've ever written and I will continue to write pretty much every drabble prompt request you ever send me because of this and the fact that you are the sweetest person ever.**

 **MNM: I've seen you've reviewed me religiously pretty much every chapter that I've written and all I have to say is…..Girl…. we need to talk. Are you me?**

 **TwilightHybrid: thank you so much for your reviews, you always leave some of the best insight when you do. You actually go into what you've gleaned from the chapter and where you think it's going to take them going forward and it always makes me so excited for what I've written next.**

 **jessnicole: Literally never fails to write me something even if it's that you really enjoyed what you read, and honestly that means so much I can't even begin to tell you.**

 **goldenhummingbird: I love the way you type. OR talk type, if that makes sense. I see a lot of myself in it. Like "that chapter fucked me up" and I'm like. Yes. Just yes. I think you are awesome and your enthusiasm even over reviews is infectious.**

 **peanutmm: You are literally my Oprah. You've been one of my most favorite people to talk to and get to know that I've gotten to meet since joining this crazy fandom and I'm literally blessed when I see that you've reviewed. I so look forward to hearing what you have to say on anything that I post because you follow it all.**

 **chillwithJyl: I think you know how much I love you, but even if you don't, I'm going to tell you how much I love you. You are the cutest thing ever and I endeavor to be as adorable as you are.**

 **Is that everyone? Absolutely not. But without a doubt I wanted you to know that when I get reviews I know who you are and think about how lovely each and every one of you are every time you review. Even if we've never met, I feel like you guys are my friends and I'll never be able to thank you enough for that. 3**


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